there was rain all the night and i woke
at a quarter past somethin’
with memories of a dream
and i tossed and turned and you
(tossed and turned)
me over and over
until the rain blew in and the sheets
were wet, and we lay in the bliss
of the morning


42 and counting

trumpets and sexophones, swilling this humid air
we are drugged by sweat on skin in the mid afternoon
i wanted to run but could not
i wanted to write but could not
i wanted to
and we did, and your voice
brings me back to bed, again