Thursday, November 01, 2012


Bedroom Companion

We brought our words with us,
stepping into the room with lots
of noise, a premonition of things
to come.

His toothpaste tasted like candy
canes (he let me use his brush).
We had broken into the same
party craving a few minutes of

distance.  Skipping the wine,
we both headed directly to
the cheese.  It was a pretty
fantastic plate.  Thus began

our opening up, our spilling
out of a lot of chilly memoir.
This was my new project.  A
flurry of excitement, an

opening.  Eating in silence,
slowly chewing each fork-
stabbed chunk, wincing.
The memory blows as it

goes.  Is gone, blown.
I forgot which word
stumbled upon which.
Indeed, I forgot

each word, all of the
words.  The noisy room
with no footprints.