Venus and Mars

I thought they were planets, instead I
found out they were my accusers. Each
page, every paragraph, another proof
of what I did--and do--wrong.  I always
knew that I was not of this place, always
believed that some other soul was
journeying to find me in this realm, though.

I have been
ever narrowing my direction to be
certain that he would enter my arc, my
tractorbeam of connection; now this.
Accuser, scanning the crowd of
readers, alighting on me, with a
satisfactory pronouncement, "HER."  (Do
not be like her.)

Should I give up? I give up. I do
not know this dance. Otherworldly I
only know how to trip and catch
myself, fall and land laughing, only
in the dark and alone do the tears come
and the blame and recrimination, "When
you gonna learn the Martian way?"

Thwarted by my Venutian heritage, intergalactic
citizenship notwithstanding, I
twist and turn on the wind of time, caught
in space on planet earth, howling for
my lost love.

The Grief of Love Tossed Aside

In the dark, I tell myself
that you
do not matter
and that you
did not have
room
for me in

your
life

but sometimes

I
miss
you

so much that I think
Death
would be a
relief.

Summer Vacation

Go away, then. Fly in
fact, away.  Herd yourselves
through check-in, security,
take off your
shoes and
coats. Do not 
joke about bombs or
knives or any-
thing at all except
maybe your bare
feet and what a 
pain
it is to have lost
to the bad guys.  Get to
your gate and wait for
the boarding call.  You
will feel important and better
than so many 
others who only ever
fly coach.  Flirt with
women, use your eyes, 
be hurried with your
children.  Remember you
are so very
indispensable to 
Planet Earth.  Never call
to say hello.  Never think
of what you are.  Never 
remember 
anything unless it
has to 
do with
you.