BOARDWALK DAYS

I'm sitting here on the steps to the apartment house

that my Mom and I share.

I'm watching him walk slowly up the middle of the street

With all of his confidence and bravado and energy.

With his smoldering beauty he claims not to see.

He never loses but then again, he never tries.

And wouldn't you know

Not one car will come, to make him move to the sidewalk.

I'd bet my life savings on that, not that I'd win much,

But I would win.

He's wearing faded blue jeans, a Nirvana shirt, and plaid

And an old leather jacket he bought in the pawn shop a couple of years ago.

He's not in style but he's in his style,

And oh, boy, does it work for him.

He doesn't look up at me

But I know he knows I'm here

That I'm watching him,

Hell, I'm always watching him.

I used to be so different

I used to be one of the soft pretty girls of the boardwalk

I used to wear bikini's and gold jewelry he bought me.

I used to giggle and scream and wink at the old men looking at me.

The boardwalk with its music and laughter and games

With its food and rides and the strange people you only notice at night.

There were dances in the crystal hall

And there was plenty of time spent down on the beach

Where no one could hear the pleading

And the sweet promises after midnight.

And certainly not the surrender to the first time

On a raggedy beach towel or an old leather jacket

From a pawn show, bought a long time ago.

Now I still go to the boardwalk, but it's to wait tables

Not to ride the rides, and not giggle and scream and wink.

And definitely not to ride on the old leather jacket anymore.

I'm not that girl anymore.

At the Greek, I wait on my old friends and him and they ask me how I'm doing

And make comments when I turn my back

That they think I don't hear .... or that they don't care if I hear.

Everything from “stuck up bitch” to “welfare ho” to “college slut”

And I ignore them and bring them their food.

It's a job, just a job

And it pays for my books at the local community college.

They leave me a tip on their forty dollar bill. A buck.

A lousy fucking buck.

And I sigh and suck up my fury and slip that dollar into my pocket.

It won't even buy me a cup of coffee

But with a couple of other lousy tips …

I'm sipping a Venti, baby.

But right now I'm watching him nearing my steps and he pauses

So slowly, so deliberately and turns to see my face.

He has sunglasses on so I can't read his eyes.

“What's up, college girl? Still studying to be the best?”

“Not the best, Mikey, just better. Just making a better life for myself.”

“That's what they all say and they all end up right back here

…... working on the boardwalk.”

“Well, not me. I did my time on the boardwalk last summer

….... and I paid all my due for all my sins.”

He removed the sunglasses looking at me sharply

A slight pain behind his eyes.

“You shouldn't have ….”

“I'm leaving tomorrow for college in New York. I won a scholarship.  I'm making my life better."

............... you'll never see me again, Michael. Never.”

And in seconds, Christie Lopez is in his arms, pressing against him,

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, whining for dinner and dancing at the boardwalk crystal hall.

She grins at me with all of her teeth exposed.

Mikey puts the sunglasses back on, hiding watery eyes.

They turn and begin their walk to the boardwalk.

And for the very first time …....

I'm not watching him anymore.

Remember That Day?

It was the last day of summer
And it was twilight, my favorite time of the day.
I was sitting on the steps of my front porch
At the house I grew up in
And although it didn't belong to me anymore
No one bothered me, no one asked me to leave.
I closed my eyes slowly, softly
I had no promises to keep.
And the miles I had to go, 
     Brought me home for the very last time.

Dear PTSD, let's talk about me ...

Let her go …

You've been holding her hostage for years

Beating and berating her for what you deemed mistakes

Never giving her a chance, never looking at her point of view.

She was young, grieving, frightened and naive

She believed in signs and God and that love conquered all.

She believed in mercy and forgiveness and absolution.

And none of what happened was her fault

And none of it was her sin.

Her innocence was beautiful and free

And even with the devil in her world

She did the best she could.

No matter how old you've gotten

No matter how clear the windows of the past

And the mis-steps you say she took

She's still just a girl

Trying and loving the only way she knew how.

Your anger at her is abuse.

She did the best she could.

Nothing in her was a lie.

She believed and believed and believed

And that was her only crime.

The truth is, your anger at her

Is your heartbreak for her

Because you know what's coming

What she will have to live through.

Look where you are …

Congratulate her, because she lived through it.

She did her best

And so are you.

Let her go.

POT SHOP MEETING

It's funny how the most important things in life

Seem to start out so innocently.

I was working in a legal pot shop

Selling cannabis, even making my own blends.

And he walked in late one night

Just before closing.

It was dark outside, there were no other customers,

And my first feeling was impatience.

I was ready to go home

I had been at the shop from early that morning.

Had served a lot of customers, made a lot of batter,

Did a lot of business with brand dealers on the phone.

It was time to pick up Anne Sexton

And sink down into sweet melancholia in a hot bubble bath.

I didn't even notice his face at first,

Although I smiled and spoke my usual greeting.

But when I looked up and into those eyes,

A memory of a lifetime flashed through my mind.

We hadn't been together long,

It had started on fire with no where to burn,

And once it destroyed everything in it's path,

                                 It was over.

He was smiling at me, almost shyly,

And I smiled back although I was studying that face,

     those lips, those eyes.

He was older, of course,

There were some grays, a few wrinkles near his eyes

But they were the same sky blue.

And his lips, that beautiful mouth

Had that same old smile,

And I just knew he kissed the same way;

He had a samurai tongue.

I grinned, we still hadn't said a word

Staring at each other, taking each other in.

He was beautiful enough to be cruel

But man enough to be kind.

And he had the heart of a lion.

I had adored him, had worshiped him.

But I was never sure if I loved him or not.

Although I knew he loved me madly.

He put his hand on the counter,

And after a heartbeat, I laid mine on top of his.

It was like a surrender of sorts.

His fingers intertwined with mine,

And our eyes met again, still not one word.

It began to rain

And I felt my soul begin to rise

To meet his, dancing in those drops.

We never even said hello.

But I saw my future, or at least part of it

Laid right out before me.

TAPE AND STRING

This day felt like one of “those” days

And it was almost over already.

I knew I was early and would have to wait,

But I had a secret romance

With train stations.

And even in the rain, this one,

With its art deco station, gas lights, and silver benches,

     Didn't let me down.

I was going to be traveling for days,

All the way from Pennsylvania to Montana,

Because I had a calling I couldn't explain to myself,

Much less any one of my friends or family.

There was something waiting there for me,

     And I had to meet it head on.

It was going to help me repair some damage,

To fix some things being held together

     With just tape and string, 

Things I needed to be whole again.

I didn't know anyone there, I didn't even know where to stay,

But I had my savings

And the good street sense growing up that Pittsburgh taught me

And the good common sense my parents taught me.

I also had my safety shields up and on full blast

     and I don't want to say who taught me that.

The train pulled in and I entered slowly

Knowing what I was doing was right

Although it was confusing as hell.

I had a sleeper car in the back and after dropping my things,

I swung by the cocktail car and got a cold martini,

Taking a seat near the windows, watching the steady rain.

As we pulled away,

Pittsburgh called me to come back, don't leave!

You're safe here with us, we are your home!

     But I hadn't been safe in a very long time,

And my soul knew that Montana had a remedy for tape and string.

Because I knew if those safety's slipped away, I would too.

The bar car was empty but it was beautiful;

It looked like it was made in the 30's with carved smoky glass,

Leather booths, low lights, and the smell of good wine.

That was why I ordered the martini, I didn't really want one,

But Sinatra was playing quietly and it was like a sweet puzzle piece that fit.

You had to be traveling with a sleeper car to gain entry to the deco bar,

     And it was nearly empty.

A couple entered but I was more interested in the rain,

Than people watching, until a man entered a little later.

I watched him order a drink and take a seat near another window.

He was dressed in blue jeans and flannel, long silver hair and tired blue eyes,

And I wondered if he didn't know the story of the tape and string.

He took a long sip of his whiskey and turned and smiled at me,

A question on his face. 

I slightly nodded and went back to my rain.

I was embarrassed, I realized I had been staring.

It was just that he had transported me back or perhaps forward

To a place I didn't even know existed.

And I felt …. solid and whole,

     Just looking at his face.

I sighed and laughed inwardly, when was the last time I felt like that?

And why from a total stranger, why not a lover or a friend?

Life was always a serious of unanswered questions,

That never really made sense of the game.

The lights in the bar carriage were dim and the bartender

Brought me another martini, three olives for luck.

It was nice here, I felt …. inside myself somehow.

     Inside the rain, inside myself.

It had started to storm and I was comforted.

I wanted so much to look at that stranger again,

But I didn't dare

Not so much for embarrassing him or myself,

But for the fear of that amazing feeling not coming back.

The light suddenly shifted near me.

I glanced up and the stranger asked if he could take a seat.

I nodded, no words forming at all.

He sat his drink on the shining black table next to my martini,

And I looked deep into those tired blue eyes.

Let it be known

He wasn't here to save me, I was going to do that myself.

I didn't need a prince or a hero, I covered that alone.

But there was warmth and comfort in a companion,

With tired blue eyes that held no harm,

And grace in a mouth,

That offered nothing but a smile.

TEA AND ADDICTION

It was a cold, cloudy day and I had slept in.

I woke up alone, rolling over in bed

Scrunching down deeper in the soft comforter

And closing my eyes.

It would have been so nice to drift off

Into the lightness of sleep

But my head and tummy were both demanding tea

And I had no choice but to obey.

I was an addict.

The hardwood floors were chilly,

This was sweater and socks weather.

And after I set my water to boiling,

I lit a fire in the family room,

breathing in that beautiful scent.

Usually the crisp, cool air gives me incredible energy,

But today …

I just wanted to curl up under an Native American blanket

I had bought on my travels in Arizona,

And read my latest, most favorite book.

The sofa was calling my name.

No computer, no phone, no television …

Just me and a book.

I got out my favorite tea service,

An antique set handed down from my Grandmother

On my Father's side.

And was mesmerized by the scent of the Darjeeling steeping.

Back in the family room, I was happy for the rare quiet,

And put on a vinyl album of Chet Baker's best.

The trees in the yard were all showing a magnitude of color,

It was a work of art.

The tea was ready and I brought in the service,

A little honey and a cup.

Heaven

I breathed it in, it was magic, it was Zen.

I was at peace, inside myself, outside myself.

Peace.

Suddenly, noise violently fractured my calm.

The front door slammed, heavy footsteps walked across the foyer,

And into the family room.

I closed my eyes, thinking he'd get the picture.

How could he not? It was painted perfectly before him.

“Hey ...” he waited and I sat perfectly still, eyes closed.

“Babe?” that voice, a voice I have been listening to for more than twenty years.

I just couldn't ignore it. 

I looked up at him, eyebrows lifted, hoping he'd buy a clue.

“Wanna?” He asked, and all I could see were those blue eyes ...

Blue eyes with the most mischievous smile.

I laughed, but I couldn't resist.

I was addicted.

Mary, Mother of Jesus

Mary, Mother of Jesus
You were just a girl
Who traded in her whole world.
I fell in love with you
Before I learned to read about you,
Before my feet were steady on the floor.
My Mother loved you
She told me stories of you
Of how the whole world
Depended on one girl.
And Mary,
I've loved you as a friend and a guiding light
I've felt your arms around me, holding me tight.
When my baby was in jeopardy, to you I prayed
Another mother would understand the fear
I felt you come to me, felt your love surround me
And with us you stayed
And with your grace granted her safe passage.
Oh, Mary
I turn to you for comfort
I turn to you for love
I turn to you in the rain
As it comes down and covers me.
And your love wraps around me.
I'll go on another day
With your strength I have seen.
Mary, Jesus's mother
We are both mothers
And the love is all that matters.
Your grief cradles me
I long to wipe away the tears from your face.
Oh, Mary
Cancer led me into the valley of the shadow
But you held my hand so tight;
You wouldn't allow me linger.
And when I couldn't find my way
When I was lost 
You led me back home through the dark.
Oh, Mary
I love you as a friend and a guiding light
I feel your arms around me, holding me tight.

NOIR

“Sometimes I feel,” he whispered, his muscular baritone vibrating somewhere near my heart,

     “like we're living in a film noir from the Thirties.”

I looked into his blue eyes, noting nothing black or gray lived there.

He was cranky tonight, some project gone wrong,

But I had to admit, he had a point.

Coltrane, Mingus, Chet Baker on the stereo every night,

     scratching vinyl because we're both such music snobs.

Bottles of Macallan scotch because we drink only the best.

     And we drink it on ice made from water procured in the Alps.

We were both in black cashmere, smoking home-rolled clove cigarettes

     And my nails and my lips were both painted deep red.

A few friends had called us hipsters, but we weren't;

We were tragically cool, so tragic, because we meant it from the heart.

Our life was all about emotion through cynicism, 

     Erotica through narcissism, sexual satisfaction through selfishness.

Something had to change; I knew I was annoying him

And he knew he was boring me to tears.

Other than the orange spark when we lit cigarettes and candles

     even our apartment was noir now.

I was worried the food would soon follow …

     White sugar, black beans, white rice, black raspberries,

     Milk and black coffee and never the two would meet.

I walked to the window, black stained oak covered in heavy white velvet

     With black lace floating beneath,

And stared at the magic moon hanging in the sky tonight.

She was so clear and so large, she nearly looked as if she was made of crystal

Just another image to add to our noir, more atmosphere for the next scene.

I turned realizing how much light the moon lent to our darkened apartment

     and how the shadows seemed to play off every wall.

Suddenly there was a flash of silver from the moonlight

     and I remember wondering briefly if it was lightning

     but when I saw it again on the wall, and his reflection in the mirror

I knew Mother Nature had nothing to do with this particular film of my life.

To die in the big city, in a black and white apartment,

wearing all black, my blood as red as my nails and my lips,

that crystal moon watching it all ...

was such a cliché, I don't think I'll ever get over it.   

EYE TO EYE

It was just after midnight

And the blue moon was hanging low in a cloudless sky.

She was so beautiful,

But she had nothing on you, my amazing man

And your incredible blue eyes,

That seem to track my every move.

We're sitting around a campfire

And you have your girlfriend in your arms.

I can see you just a few feet from me.

We're surrounded by friends,

The booze is flowing freely.

The scent of cannabis, the fire, 

      and the ocean mingle around us.

I'm watching you caress your girl 

      through the flames that separate us

You're touching her with such tenderness and such passion.

I'm a little jealous, I want to be in her place, 

      although she gives me pleasure as well.

And although our friends keep calling for my attention

I can't take my gaze away.

Your fingers coax emotion from her hidden soul

And you look straight at me, a twinkle in your eyes,

Knowing without a doubt that I was watching.

I'm your mate, your wife, your best friend,

But she's your girl and I've accepted that.

Later that night, the fire burned down to embers,

      our friends gone home

I've watched you and her playing together in a sensual dance

      that I don't know the moves to.

But now she's put away in her guitar case

Slumbering until you pick her up once more.

And our threesome is now a twosome again.

You take me into your arms,

Pulling me gently against your body

As I become soft and you become hard

In a dance that began with time …

You're giving me a slow kiss, all about passion

But we're playing now, we're smiling and kissing

Tasting of beer and weed and sweet peaches.

I open my eyes, as the kiss goes on

And you're staring at me.

I laugh and pull back, and your hand entangles in my hair

Holding that kiss, holding me.

Those eyes, those blue eyes.

Isn't this where we came in at?

I don't know anymore, so much time has gone by.

But I do know this is where I'm staying, blue eyes.

Right here with you.

We suddenly break apart laughing, dropping to the beach

You're next to me in a heartbeat, 

      and there's sand and more kisses.

I'm staying, I'm staying, I'm staying

Blue eyes, I'm staying

As I feel you lift the hem of my summer dress

And slowly run the back of your hand up my thigh.

You laugh quietly and whisper something so funny

So filthy and so personal

And I blush

      although I've heard it a hundred times before,

Something between us that no one would ever understand.

I roll over, giggling and I'm in the surf, you alongside me.

The waves are crashing over our bodies, now naked,

Now … now … what nature intended

What bodies were built for …

What angels only dreamed of.

And those blue eyes, still on mine.

I'm staying … staying.

Whispers and Storms

It was 2:30 am on some street in downtown Pittsburgh

And we had just come out the back door of a tiny punk bar.

I was definitely under-dressed for a cold winter night in September,

And you were too drunk to drive.

I held your keys in my hand, feeling their weight in my fingers.

Your key chain said “too young to die” and I hoped that were true.

You were staring at me, a half grin on your face,

That I didn't particularly like much. I wondered how I looked to you.

You in your band tee-shirt and sleepy blue eyes,

Blonde hair falling, creating a frame … you are beautiful.

It was an old cliché, but I never loved anyone more.

We were on the verge of a screaming battle

I could feel it on the wind like a whisper of a bad omen

Teasing me that I could lose my man with just one wrong word.

I reached up slowly and touched your cheek, and you kissed my palm,

Humming as you did.

Touch has always been a glue for us, a wall-breaker, when we've started to build.

The half-grin is gone and you're smiling now

And the whispers of a bad omen have retreated back … back ...

You pull me into your arms and we're dancing and laughing

On a cold street in the middle of the night in Pittsburgh

And neither one of us quite knows why

But we both know that we missed a storm.

BACCHUS AND THE RED WITCH

He is Bacchus and she is the Red Witch
She revels in his beautiful words
spoken in a room of silk and lace.
The wine is opulent and abundant
As the crystal ship glides its way through mirrored seas
The servants are quiet
The panoramic psychedelic scenery eating their imaginations.
He stops reading, looking at her, his eyes glowing with lust and love
He once again bitterly complains about his role in all of this
He only wants to be with her; he wants her to be with only him
She throws her head back and laughs, infuriating him.
She's heard it all before, over and over again
Through moons upon moons, tides upon tides
The ever changing world that has yet to stop spinning
And set them free.
He sets on her, his fury rising, and grabs her china white arms
Her fiery red hair cascading around them.
He's insisting she change things, to invoke the Goddess
She reminds him he is a God, he has always been a God
And to become a monster now would shatter her.
She reminds him of centuries of this same conversation
and he grabs a bottle of wine, blood red wine
pouring it along their bodies creating a fire of their own making
In the morning she awakens slowly
Thinking of how much harder he is to convince each lifetime
She wonders what will happen when he refuses to leave her
And although he's gone
She can still feel his life force in her bed, in her rooms.
He's off to begin again
And the Red Witch will wait for him as she always has
She'll become the Dark One, she knows and then go on
Only to begin again some September at Harvest Moon
Slowly walk the path of the ancients as The Maiden
And suddenly remember him
Not only her inspiration, her love but her only true mate
Bacchus ...

OPAQUE

I don't understand why you're on my mind so constantly, lately.
Why I'm dreaming of you, remembering conversations, laughing at old jokes
Why I'm seeing your face, that beautiful face, those blue eyes.
Are you doing this, because I know I'm not?
And I can't get through a day without visions of you and I surrounding me.
I've never forgotten you, you've never left my soul, and you know that.
I can always find you when I need you.
I can always talk to you when I need ... what only you can give.
There is nothing from that summer that I've forgotten.
Did you think I had?  Did you think I let you go?
You know that ....
 ... I've always brought you back,  Yet I've always been in control of my memories.
I can't think about you all the time
I can't hold that desire for you constantly
Because I know it will break me, I know it will force me to be alone
Thinking only of you and the way you ... and how you ...
It's over and done and I have moved on.  But ...
Suddenly, here you are, invading my space
Without an invitation, without a call.
It's like an invasion from the one I always loved
But an unwelcome invasion when it isn't on my terms.
I want you to go, I want you to ...
I miss you, I miss you always
But these memories tend to stop my life
Pull me back to a place that is so far gone, I could never find it again.
And I get this physical urge to try and find it, to drive South, to the end
To find that street, to find that house, to find that bar, that table, that ... light
To find those places where smoke became fire.
And I could drive for hours and hours, days upon days
Searching ... searching ... searching
But it's gone.
I get caught up in thoughts of you, the bar, the hurricane candle
Your blonde hair, your blue blue eyes, my innocence.
Here I am in real life and then suddenly I'm gone, with you, remembering.
Your voice, your hands, your laugh catching mine and holding it
You are a diamond in the rough, an unknown legend, a prince of men.
But no one got to know it, to discover you, to see you
Because you passed too quickly from this world.
But I saw it, I saw you, I loved .... love .... you
For all time.  You .... are mine.
So I have to bring you to me when I'm ready
Not the other way around.
You can't do this to me, you can't pull me from my world
To be in this opaque shadowy existence with you.
Neither one of us can live here or I would stay with you forever.
I miss you always.
I'll bring you back, I'll send an invitation, my hands will reach for you once more.
Wait for my call.
Please answer
Please say yes as you have always done before.

ODE TO KITCHEN TABLES

I'm all moved into my new house and it already feels like home
It has a garden and a porch with a swing
And best of all, a huge gourmet kitchen with a white wood table
     that seats four although it's just me.
I sit here at this kitchen table, a small grin on my face;
It's not the first kitchen table but it's the best.
I remember back to my parents table;
     covered in a felt and plastic green flowered cloth
It was all the rage in those days.
I did my homework there, had long talks with Mom
And watched the love of my life Billy
     being grilled by Daddy before our first date
     and again when he asked me to marry him four years later.
The next table was in our first apartment
It sat in the hallway next to the living room
The kitchen was so tiny, Billy could almost touch wall to wall
But you could see the bedroom window from the living room window
And I thought that was simply divine.
Billy did his college homework at night on that first kitchen table
I tried to be a journalist while waitressing during the day
Neither one of us made those dreams come true
And there were more kitchen tables to come.
I stopped writing and had babies
And much to his disgust and dismay, Billy became a truck driver
But I was the daughter of a blue collar worker
So it seemed just fine to me
I had four kids to raise
     and a full kitchen table
And no time for pretentiousness
Years went by, the kids grew and left,
     and the tables got smaller
Billy shut himself in his office and I didn't mind
I had the rest of the house to myself
     and felt intruded on when he walked through
It seemed one morning we both woke up
And realized we were laying next to strangers
We didn't know each other anymore.
We worked out our settlement on our last kitchen table
It was easy
     we had no anger; we were just done
And today I'm signing the final divorce papers
     on my own kitchen table
This will be the last table for me
     the last, the best, the easiest
The one that will see me begin my new life.

SEARCHING FOR FAITH

I'm walking down abandoned rail road tracks
The sunrise ahead of me
Worn blue jeans and an old pair of boots
My cowboy hat blows off me
And I turn and watch it
Rolling and tumbling down the tracks behind me
It had a crucivix pinned to it
Something of a talisman in my past
Twelve years of Catholic school
But I left those beliefs behind at twenty-one
Jesus was a cool guy, but he's not my guy.
The sun is higher in the sky
And my body cries for coffee.
There's a diner to the right
And I walk inside
Thrilled to be wrapped in the AC
Sitting at the counter, I smile at the waitress
Who grins back and hands me a menu
"Our green tea will give you a boost this morning, honey"
I shake my head and tell her that coffee will be just fine
She points out the menu with its 37 teas and no beans
There's meditation in the corner and yoga in the back
And I smile, getting up from the counter
Buddha was a cool guy, but he wasn't my guy.
Across the tracks and the road next to it is a 24 hour place
And they've actually got a picture of coffee in the window
I laugh and run inside
And the waitress is already pouring
"You're an angel with wings, darling", I tell her
"Blessed Be, Blessed Be!!"  she cries out and takes my order
I glance around at the crystals and swords
Candles, incense, and statues
I love it here and the food is just as good
I feel welcome ... but something is missing
And soon I'm on my way and I'm closer
The Goddess is fantastic, but she isn't my girl.
As the heat becomes almost too much to bare
I take a ride from an old man in a beat up Ford truck
He asks if I'm a Christian and although I figure
I'm about to lose my ride
I'll tell him the truth, that no, I'm not
But that I'm not sure what I am
And he grins
"Think back, who kept you safe when you was a child
Who was there for you, besides your Mama and Daddy?"
We didn't talk anymore but I thought about what he said
And thanked him when he dropped me at my hotel
There was a huge convention with people dressed up
And although I was invited in, I didn't go
Aliens are ... cool ... but they aren't my ... yeah
In the hotel bar, I ordered a cold drink
Who kept me safe beside Mom and Daddy?
Who was there for me?
My fingers trailed up and caressed the medal
I always wore on a necklace
My Grandmother had given it to me
It was Mary, the mother of Jesus.
Whenever I was afraid of a storm
Or that my Father was sick
Or when I was lost in the woods
I spoke to Mary.
As an adult, I turned to Mary when I was pregnant
I thanked her for safe passage as my daughter came into this world
She was who was with me at my Father's funeral
And was with me when I realized there was no God
(Don't ask me to expain that because I can't)
Mary has never left me, has never stopped loving me
She keeps me safe, she listens
She gives me comfort
And even when I knew her son was just a human
(Don't ask me to explain that because I can't)
She understood me and held me anyway
Does this make me a confused Christian?
A pagan making it up as she goes along?
A feminist with an agenda?
It doesn't matter.
Mary is the one and Mary is my homegirl

THE PERFECT KISS

Teenage girls worry about it
Their first kiss with the quarterback
Or the bad boy they're planning to fix.
So do brides on their wedding day
All dressed in white
At the altar after they've been pronounced.
But after you've had dozens of kisses
Few so memorable as to call perfect
You realize the ones that stand out
Are the ones that are far from perfect.
Like the one after we knew each other a few days
And were sitting on my couch
Doing tequila shots, finding interesting places
To lick the salt.
That kiss was too drunken and sloppy
To be called perfect but so very sexy.
The one in the rain after a huge fight
Where we had said goodbye and meant it
And you chased me down Fifth Avenue
Both of us nearly getting hit by cars.
That kiss stopped traffic
And stopped us from leaving each other.
It was romantic as hell
But far from perfect as we nearly drowned in rain.
The one in the ER
After I fell off the back of the parked truck and you landed on top of me
On concrete
Impossible to explain to the doctor and nurses
Although I had a broken rib
And you had a dislocated shoulder trying to keep me from getting hurt
It was tender and loving but definitely not perfect
As broken bones and bruises would keep us from each other.
The one on our wedding day
As the mayor prounced us husband and wife
And all of our friends prounced in unison
"It's about time!"
And the magic kiss was broken by laughter.
The one at your casket
And everything was in the world was black
Except your face.
I leaned over and kissed your lips ..... cold
The least perfect of all
The most perfect of all and the last of all.
I tucked a bottle of tequila in your jacket pocket
Scandalizing as it was to your family
And then a tube of my lipstick into your breast pocket
And backed away
Knowing your soul was already on your next journey
And I'd wait until I was on that journey with you
To feel another imperfect perfect kiss.

PENN AVENUE

We sit backstage in a dive bar
In downtown Pittsburgh on a rainy night
Waiting to go on.
Bottles of beer on the table
And the sweet smell of cannabis in the air.
We were eighteen years old, Billy and me
And thought we were infallible and we'd live forever.
Paid to do cover songs, but sometimes slipping in an original.
We'd skipped a year of college, much to our parents dismay
And cast our dreams to the wind.
We found a funky stage on Penn Avenue
Where the owner looked the other way when we showed him our ID
And paid us under the table to entertain the crowds.
It was a wildly romantic time and we tried to be June and Johnny
Instead of Sid and Nancy.
We drew audiences; teenagers to hear something new
And adults out to hear a memory
And we gave 'em both what they wanted.
I was on guitar, Billy on bass
And big Danny Riley on drums.
We covered everything from Hank Williams to The Ramones
And dreamed of Joe Grushecky coming in one night
Discovering us, introducing us to Bruce.
But when winter came, Penn Avenue was extra cold
And Billy's Dad offered him a car to go back to school.
Big Danny was already gone, hoping to find studio work in LA
And I remember standing in the snow; telling Billy to go
He promised he wouldn't; the band would go on
It was over, I said, again and again, and went inside my Mama's house
Late that night, I heard him calling my name, in the snow
And I closed my eyes, I didn't go, I didn't go.
I never saw him again except in dreams
Exactly twenty years later, my Mama called
Billy's Daddy had called looking for me
I sat with the number for a few hours
Knowing what this was about but not wanting
To hear it put into actual words
It was a few weeks after 9/11
And he told me that Billy's body had been recovered
And would I please come to the funeral in Mt. Lebanon that Friday
I didn't have an answer, I hung up the phone
Weeping, weeping, it will never stop
Years later I went to the memorial in NYC
Touching his name
Running my fingers over those precious letters
And I thought of bottles of beer
The sweet smell of canabis
And him on stage
At that club on Penn Avenue
Looking like the rock star he was.

WORSHIP

We got off the plane and the first thing I notice
Is the heat of the island that wraps around me
Invading my privacy, determind to make itself known
The way it always seems to welcome me back.
Hours later, I sat on the porch drinking a cold beer
And smile as his jeep pulls in, kicking up dirt and dust
He carries in the cooler and I watch the muscles in his back tense
Feeling like a pervert for my very own guy
I grin and he caught me as he turned
And pulled me into his arms
Demanding to know what put that salacious smile onto my lips
I refused to speak, playing shy, and looked down
He laughed, knowing shyness was not part of my make-up
And let me go
Putting lobster and crab legs into the 'fridge.
He sat down and finished my beer, his eyes on mine
Lips just made for kissing and whispering
Cheek bones that could cut glass when he smiles
Gentle crows feet surround his eyes, he's a man not a boy
I grab us two more beers, but before I sit down
I take his hand in mine, it's strong, calloused, masculine
He squeezes my fingers, plays with my wedding bands
We're worshipping each other like bats
Our eyes meet again, and there's a fire burning all of our own
I smile at him
A smile that men have understood since Eve first gave it to Adam
That night on the beach, in front of a fire we had built
We hold each other close after a midnight swim.
He is my floor.
I had had the floor of safety ripped out from under me
At age twenty-one when my Daddy died
And although I was married, I never felt safe again
Until I met this man who rebuilt that floor
Board by board, nail by nail
Until I could stand, knowing he always had my back
And I didn't have to do it alone anymore
I'll be sad to leave the island for home
But we'll take the floor with us
The love, the lust
The safety in our marriage
That follows us wherever we go

YOU SAW ME FIRST

You saw me first before I even knew
What was just beneath the surface
Of that girl in her fifteenth summer
It was Key West in the 70s
You were my cousin's best friend
But I just remember the Full Moon Saloon
A hurricane candle lighting a cigarette
And the bluest eyes I had ever seen
Eyes that were seeing me first
Everyone watched you
You were so damn good looking
Even my mother said so
A total free spirit, long blond hair
And those eyes, those sexy damn eyes
That were seeing me first
You were older by a decade
And got a kick out of my crush
I tried so desperately to hide
As you awakened more and more feelings
Without ever touching me
As my Daddy circled us like a hawk with a hunting rifle
Because he could see us both.
But there was attention paid
And long conversations
And dances to rock and roll
And stares and smiles
And my very first serious kiss
All with a grin on your face.
I fell hard for you that summer
And getting on the plane to go home
Was like having something torn away and yet something replaced
And all my friends said how I had changed
When I got back to Pittsburgh.
You had awakened the woman in the girl
And I still find myself grinning remembering you
And the hurricane candle and the bluest damn eyes.
I'm so glad you saw me first

ME AND JONI

Joni Mitchell gave the women of the world a voice
She empowered them
Let them cry and helped them dance
And for generations on
She's still the queen
But me and Joni
We just never clicked
I bought her albums in the 70s
And pretended to get behind
Those words of wisdom
As my girlfriends went totally fangirl for her
I bought her songbook before the internet
Trying to find what I was missing
And everyone else seemed to have found
I wanted her so badly
But it was unrequited love for both
Sigh
The women of my generation still talk
About what she gave them
And my daughter plays her music
Goes on and on about how important she was
I know, I know ... I was there
But Bob Dylan spoke to me
And Joni never even whispered
Oh Joni
Why can't we be together?

JOES AND RITAS

The bar was dark and chilly
And neon shone from the window
And made the bottles glitter in the mirror behind the till
Leather covered the stools and booths
And it smelled of beer on tap and cheap whiskey
She sat at the farthest stool, at the end of the bar
The seat closest to the juke
And fed it several dollars
Playing Tori Amos, the lounge singer done good
Who seemed to have all the answers
She sipped her Patron slowly
Savoring the burn
Trying to chase away something
That was chasing her
The bartender watched her from the corner of his eye
She didn't belong here
The bar was downtown, blue collar joes and good time ritas
Just good people looking for an escape for a night
She was uptown, upscale, upper class
And she'd never find the answer's to her problems
In a place like this, good as it was
She looked like she had lost in the game
But the bartender knew it was just a round
And she'd have another and another shot at it
And with her beauty doors would open
One after another for most of her life
Whereas with goodtime rita's they had one door, maybe two
And had to jump through the one door that opened
Before it closed again
The bartender wanted to tell her that, explain
She needed to leave before the joes heard the whistle blow
And began swarming her, sending her drinks
Making her feel special for an hour or two
And then completely empty forever
Hearts are cheap and he knew she hadn't learned that yet
She was still soft and clean, still smooth and sweet
And he knew a joe would change that forever
Joes worked hard and played hard and their lives were hard
They would love her and cherish her
But the life would break her and the love would fall away
The bartender saw it all the time
He wanted to protect her, although he didn't know why
He walked toward her slowly, taking her in
Blond hair, blue eyes, designer clothes
How on earth did she find her way in here
He wondered again?
     "Miss, it's time for you to go home.  This isn't the place for a girl        like you."
She looked at his with those eyes, suddenly defiant
And then a bit frightened.
She nodded and smiled the saddest smile he had ever seen.
He wanted to close for the night and take her home.
He resisted; he was no joe.
He told her all the things in his heart, about the joes and the ritas
And how good life was going to be for her
She leaned over the bar and kissed his cheek
He watched her walk out and hoped her scent would stay with him
And the work whistle blew