Only

I only write poetry
When the drapes are on fire
When the heart is imploding
When the sun is floating
Near the rim of my glass
and I take a sip &watch it split
like a fractured yolk;
like my past.


When the world has no plan
& I’m in trouble, a regular ol’ calamity.
When I’m mad that I am only a man
&question what the plan must be.

I only write poetry
When he is beside me
My clay skinned Adonis,
dipped in ebony.
When he must leave
& I’ve no place to go
‘cept to my wineglass
Where the sun is floating
a subtle glow.

While I am living, but too busy fearing.
When the voices start singing
&I don’t like what I am hearing

When I can hear my neighbors making love
While I lie alone,
tuning out their huff n puff


I only write poetry
When the day is created
&the clouds are lavender bruises
Draped across a muscled sky.
&for a moment I know God.
&it is so beautiful –
&I sit alone &wonder why