For Will

[manawa]

I can write easily for other people
but when it comes to writing you
I'm shooting blanks baby
and with my finger on the trigger
shaking no my baby don't fuck around with this
but it's past that time
where the fake bang would of uncovered anything
let alone bodies

let alone me
I am missing the dip in your chest where my forehead fits
let alone me
I am missing the flood of your voice coming home from work
covered in sawdust and miller light
I am missing you so much
under my covers at night

I can write easily for most people and
I can even write gay men stories
about their alien pain but
I cannot write back a pizza box
and sex between Pepsies
I cannot write back that way I fit into
your propped up body
watching TV as I fell asleep
I cannot write you back to me

let alone write you free

I wrote a baker a poem about the
last crumbs of things
left to say on my dinner plate
I wrote a baker clean from me
in a lilted I love you
and an I'm sorry
I wrote him every last thing
all wrapped up in a bun about being there
should things become less undone
but I cannot write the world away from your
broken down bicyle history
oh no
I have no chance against the monster that is he
and I wish I could kiss you normal
or strong or calm at least
but I cannot fight down the monsters that were
I cannot make you less like swiss cheese
you are holy to me

you are holy to me

And you could not control
all the hate that you saw but
I wish you could temper the hate that you see
you are beautiful to me
My baby
you are held together with pins and keys
to rooms I can't pass through
and despite all the buillshit bravado
and sleaze
you were beautiful to me

so I cannot write hatred and
fucking jack assholes
they don't solve the puzzle
of you me and we
I cannot write missing and
sad understanding
i have no conceptual handle on thee
I just loved you a while
and liked being there
when you opened that door
at a quarter to three

and i'm stuck in these
stupid ridiculous couplets
I don't want to be here
I guess I'll just leave