Red

In a first-time event, this poem has a dedication:



To the birthday girl, from whom I borrowed a couple of lines.



Title from Okkervil River (MySpace)



This is not a red cat

with patches of brown

and a keen interest in you,

even if it's only when it's hungry.



This is not a red house

with white shutters to shut prying eyes

out from our party that squeaks

when it's filled with red rubber balloons.



This is a red flower

that I picked as the color of love

and the color of your hair

after you dyed it last winter.



This is a red flower

because I'm allergic to cats

and your house is states away

and I wish that I could see you today.

Blackbirds

Title from Erin McKeown (MySpace)



I don't know the names of the birds that

wake me up with a disjointed jamboree band of

squeaks, squawks, squeals, and honks barked out

on the upper range of nature's cornets and trumpets.



But I know they hate me.

And I know their night-black feathers are an ironic joke

when the sun rises and those dark wings spread

and the birds sing, "Don't you wish it was still so dark?

Don't you wish the sun waited on you?

Don't you wish we waited, too?"

And I do.

Yer Birthday

Title from Casper & the Cookies (MySpace)



The reason I didn't call you on your birthday

is that when you speak, the power of your voice

pounds the skin from my bones and

makes my teeth rattle like a firmly-flipped Franz

in a game of Guess Who.



But that power isn't mighty and bone-crushing

like Thor or Zeus or my grandfather.

It's calm and earnest,

almost as serene as the Sacandaga Reservoir,

like the expressionless tone in which I was told,

"Toby was hit by a Ford doing forty.

His ribs exploded and popped a tire.

You should've kept him on a leash."



Or maybe it's a stomach-turning sweetness

of snack time and lollipops and Mrs. Langley

who used to delight in telling 1st graders,

"You'll have to wait to use the bathroom!"

She stopped smiling after a liter of urine

found its way to the carpet during story time

and I had to see the nurse for a change of pants.



But I ended up being sent home early

because the nurse didn't have pants for husky boys

and I didn't call you on your birthday

because remembering how you sound

sends a chill through every layer of fat and loneliness

and fond childhood memories

from the time I was a husky boy.