two more poems

a pear

in air
I wait,
still
like air.
summer air
breathing myself.
I wait for
you
to resurrect
yourself
as the heir
to
psychosis.
the hair
you cut
will not
self-destruct
on tile floor
but lies
in separation
from a head
I learned to
deconstruct
as you ate a pear
when you and I
were a pair.


melancholy, hey
hey!
melancholy!
light my candle
my lovelight
my exploding
fourth of july
my birthday cake
my spring hemp
my summer
my summer
my summer
is always too far away
and too condensed
with ideas of rivers and
trees that I've climbed
and been cut in and
loved under and
had hearts broken
and broke hearts.