Tag Archives: relationships

House of Cards

Flattened,
you stand back
to survey the damage–
you consider how long it took
to perfect those startling
and beautiful angles–
how long it took
to get them just right
so they could support
your next move.
You didn’t realize
the moments of triumph
would be so few and far between–
or that the between
was going to be so full
of uncertainty
and strong winds
there was no way
it could have held together.
So you pick up all those cards
and stuff them in your pocket.
You don’t have the energy
to rebuild what you know now
is only going to fall–
and right now
you don’t even have the heart
to cut — or shuffle the deck.

 

 

 

DeMaris
4-20-18

Double Feature

Friday, almost midnight—
a movie theater mass exodus
into the dim-lit parking lot.
Voices hurry toward sleep
while my keys jingle and unlock
my sleeping god of destinations.
But another movie plays out
in my rear-view mirror—
an un-young couple embrace their wish.
The long strap of her green purse
is a snake on top of her white Nissan—
his body pressed between hers
and his dark blue Honda Accord.
He holds her as if this night
is all they have, have ever had—
as if he’d give anything
to be with her, elsewhere, anywhere
except in the hereafter of two hours
spent in the only dark they could afford—
I imagine them holding hands
in the back row, leaning into a dream
that will never come true—
forgetting about the lives they’ve
stepped out on to be here—
why else would she be crying
if this wasn’t the last scene
in their clandestine romance?
Why else would he still be sitting
in his car long after she drove away?

DeMaris
4-15-18

A Public Place

A public place
is an unfortunate venue
to have the wind
knocked out of you—
to find yourself flattened
after your heart performs
the acrobatic shock and swell
of being caught off-guard
by your brush
with the-never-was
the-not-quite
the-almost-love-of-your-life.
And he sees you
before you can locate
a restroom
or an emergency exit
so you make sure
the smile on your face
appears natural
and that the soul
you don’t believe you have
gives the impression
of being untortured
and maybe even lightweight—
and for the next 10 minutes
you’re on autopilot
watching his mouth move—
the one that kissed you
only once
because one of you
was already married—
and love is bad news
when it has nowhere to go
but into a private cage
now on display
for everyone to see—
and somehow it looks
inconspicuous—
like there was never
a rip or a tear between you.

 

 

 

DeMaris
4-8-18

“Nighthawks” by Edward Hopper, 1942

Comfort Animal

Mine is timid
around strangers
and is known to bite
if he feels cornered—
sometimes I believe
he feels threatened
by the cage he imagines
I must have hidden
in one of my many rooms.
He lives for long walks
in the woods
where he can stop
whenever he needs to pee,
or has a wish to investigate
the marvelous array
of wildflowers—
and his endurance
is more than
(or at least equal to) mine,
and I can take him
almost anywhere
without worry he’ll run off
and never return—
his loyalty is a mix
of curiosity and restraint—
but I think his devotion
has something to do
with the way I scratch his ears
and rub his belly
and let him sleep in my bed—
but I suspect
he’s always ready to bolt
if I lean in too close
or hug him
a little too tight.

DeMaris
3-29-18

“Master Bedroom” by Andrew Wyeth, 1965

Cake

Just for him

she baked

a beautiful cake–

multiple tiers

icing so white

it seemed to glow

and there were

flowers too–

sugar-sweet

pastel soft

and he was not

misled

by this facade–

he knew that inside

was a different

kind of sweet–

dark–

the color of sin–

but just when

he was sure

the time had come

to enjoy

this decadence

he watched her

recoil

as he lifted a fork

above this

aesthetic perfection

and he realized

he wouldn’t

be allowed

to have his cake

and eat it too.