The Turkish Man with the Italian Restaurant

The classiest diner

in a town of 75,000–

take your new date

to impress her –

candle-lit outdoor seating

and authentic, charming waiters

with heavy accents

elegance that can only be dubbed

“Italian”

but on a quiet day

he is there

with his modest suit

and proud smile

he talks to the ladies

meeting for wine

on a tuesday

he smiles and tells his story

“Seventeen years old

when I came to America”

(no one asks how long

ago that was…)

“from a little town in the east

of Turkey..

with nothing but mountains

and snow…

nothing to do but make babies!”

he laughs, and goes on,

“I moved to Chicago with 20 dollars

Twenty dollars

in my pocket.

You can imagine how happy I was

when I earned my first $10…

always an Italian restaurant,

and so

it’s all I know..”

he smiles

and that says it all

it’s not italian

or turkish

it’s his

and the rest of the story

is a long hard journey

around his eyes,

down his cheeks,

beside his lips

and left to sleep

in his fantastic smile.

since it ended

2 years

2 jobs

one new flat

in the city

one nearly good relationship

many bad dates

new friends

new outlooks

new partners–

well

more for you…

more prudness

from me

2 new outlooks

on life

more time at the gym

5 less pounds

a smaller butt

a better appreciation

for life

family

the few true friends

more observation

more hesitation

more sure

of what we want

and what we don’t

but

far from certain…

so many things change

the same face

but less familiar

realities

I’d rather not know

you

me

might of beens

but time has

cleared the lingering thought

and here i stand

in your unfamiliar bathroom

reaching for your pomade

as if i had used it yesterday

the very same jar

from days together

and i have to laugh

the only thing

that hasn’t changed

since it ended

different

different

funny word

concept for something

which cannot exist

only opposite

something else

i’m different

now

i’m someone else’s

same

closed doors

and pensive reflections

inside

looking out

wishing someone

was

different

and just like me…

None but Yours

Threadlike

Pale

Waterless

Cracked

Calloused

Gauzy

Desiccated

Undesirable

Slivers

On Their Empty Faces

Dry

Dreary

Despicable

Lifeless Little Holes

For Food

Untouched

Unsought

Unnecessary

Lover,

There are no lips but yours.

Nicola

Sketching

In the margins

Unable to justify

The sensual curve

Of your lower lip

Pen to mouth

I find my own lips

Agape

And longing for yours

An Agony

Of unknowns….

The feel of your olive cheeks

To my fingertips

The sweep of your hair

Against my bare skin

The way your body shutters

As it falls to sleep

I so unable to concede

to never knowing these simple extascies

My pen so unwilling

To stay inside the lines

Continue my routines

As if my life was never interupted

By its brief incounter

With yours

 

Too wet

Is the stain

Of your eyes upon me

The final lingering look you gave

At an opportune moment

Uncovering in my expression

Every notion of frustration and passion

I felt for you

Vulnarable. Restrained. Longing.

Eager to hear all of your philosophies

and convictions

To expose and caress you

To uncover the reasons

for our instantanious comfort

in each other’s presence

You’ve awaken the girl in me

Who still believes

In love at first sight

and unconsciously draws the lips

Of her love

In the margins.

a funk

came to our spot

at 3:52

you said you’d be there

by the fountain

in the fog

our embrace would

send the low clouds

packing

sunshine in our eyes

for each other

lover you were

my East

and everything that rises

a sanctuary on the page

the one who keeps

grey skies in check

and i was waiting for you

at 3:52

but you never came.

on getting older…

tick tock tick tock tick tock

twenty-nine

never meant to dissappoint my mother

by making an honest living

on my own

men just don’t

impress me anymore

so i stopped looking.

 

Laying restless

with too much energy

at 11pm

afraid to hit the reset button

and wake up

a crabby woman tomorrow

DAMN NEAR 30

i forget which category that puts me in

in some 90’s  Chris Rock song

i only know

that sometimes

it is all a joke

or a comedy

such a fine difference

the two–

various lengths

of mindless laughter

forget the loss of time

with spent grins

and rising stomachs

it’s true

laughter is the best medicine

if only my mother

kept it in her cabinet

next to the Zoloft

and Pepcid AC

Heaven forbid

I be ALONE and unhappy

When I could be so unhappy

with someone else!

so cheers to you, 29,

i raise my Kettle One and tonic

and salute

another year of dodging that bullet

safe in the escape

of other San Franciscans

unyeilding and unable to commit

i do not long for a man

i do not long for a big home and designer bags

i only long  for the ass i had at 19

everything else is pretty much the same…..

where you lie

is your head

on a pillow

or a shoulder

your nose in a book

or the napp of a neck

the route you take

from A to B

is not always

a highway

tell me,

future lover,

where do you lie?

in an ear

or on a bed?

The Choice We Didn’t Make

Kansas for me

is a cobblestone path

into my past

a home i can never go to

a place where my Tin Man

is not married to

a woman who was once

my best friend

and now a stranger….

It takes no wizardry to know

I am a cheat

Because I chose you

over her

convinced myself

that I was loyal

because I never kissed you…

Ridiculous

It’s taken me almost 7 years

to realize that

maybe she was right

maybe i betrayed her….

Still I don’t know why I struggle

Why I fight my very nature

to be the person I am today

A cowardly lion who hides behind

the notion of enlightment

via the 101

a greener place to sulk

i suppose….

I should have been a writer

I should have told the truth

we should have considered

the possibility

when we had the chance…

but the girl you loved

isn’t me anymore

and Im not sure it’s her, either.

Possibility

Yellow

 

Lost in flow

Of notes

Of hazy expressions

Wordless gestures

Throughout senseless evenings

Star-lit

In the middle

Of a fucked up maze

Beyond our wasteful youth

And before our all-consuming

Self-inflicted

Life challenges

 

This place

Where left is a band

And right is a bar

You

I

We

Merlot

And

Possibility

 

I never kissed you

But I should have.