from the margins of the day planner

I.

the sun comes out.
the license plates change.
every day i wake into
the same dream.




II.
driving rhymes


the secret that we sprouted from
the things i said when i was drunk
another day without the sun
another drive alone


i hold the wheel between the pen
and cigarette.  if the road bends
i follow through.  i feel it in
my brain and in my bones.


start the songs again at 1
check my cell phone with my thumb
i miss the heat, don't miss the sun,
it just gets in my eyes.


i drive down cement pale and thin
to a house you'd like to keep me in 
and i can't hold it in my skin
i love until i cry




III.
waiting room rhymes


i love him till i almost cry
and then i almost laugh.
i broke myself in two but i 
can't bear to give you half.


it's so unfair!  your song unsung--
the pillow of the grass--
it itches me,  the feathers hung
on wings that don't unclasp


a window so the day comes on
in tiny lines of light.
a feather bed to lay upon:
the wings are spread at night.