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being naked along the river washes it all away…
.
:.:
I said this was my mantra tonight
right now
just this moment
“I wish I were a wife”
I felt this
when a man enamored with the term “polyamory”
let me vent a bit at him
I talk to people
I feel them
their thoughts and feelings reflect back into me
the ripples continue the conversation
long after…
I sat down
acute with frustration
having just voiced it
and looked at my friends:
I wish I were a wife
humbly taking the weakness of my lovers
pulling the slack
doing the work to support them in the way of their being
I’m still so angry and bitter
of the way my mother did that for my father
that I Am that arrogant bastard he was
expecting my lovers to exist freely of me with me
being responsible for every aspect they intersect
oh
I am very giving
happy in service often
oh
i am just tired
I’ve not slept well in weeks
I’m over saturated
I’m edgy and need peace and quiet
oh..
I wish I were a wife
strong and patient
taking on the immense weight
of the imperfection of Men
(Rodin’s “Caryatid”)
(e.g.: http://ronnisrants.blogspot.com/2007/10/rodins-fallen-caryatid.html?m=1 )
my friends are my lovers
I just get bitter doing all the work…
I love doing the work
until I get deluded into thinking I’m doing all the work
then I don’t want to do any of it
and resent every ignored action
and fall into fear
deluding myself I’m so lazy I want my lovers to do all the work always…
I’m wrestling.
I should be sleeping.
I should be dreaming.
I should be resting in my brother’s arms.
I should be nurtured by my family’s love.
.
:.:
:
dying
told you are dying
dying for a year now
(how tedious!)
mourning your own life
suffering pain
physical
and the ebbing of your physical strength
being a sensualist
and no longer being able to drink alcohol, eat meat, have sex
alone on a hill
and not being touched
or even holding court!
(I do not mean to dramatize, but set the scene)
in the process of dying
for a year
writing your memoirs
and thinking
as you’ve often though
of the first significant love relationship you ever had
writing it out
in humor and sorrow
in this age of computers
thinking to look him up
to see how he’s doing…
he didn’t die in the AIDS years, this you know
but there’s his obituary
from 2007
even dying
for a year
outliving the last of the friends you can dredge up from your memory
from the early days…
(when things were…)
that kind of sad.
I’m glad I answered the phone when he called.
.
:.:
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