Stories from L.A.

        The Poetry Page


I write poems
because I cannot
distill the touch of your hand
to a clear essence
and pour it into a bottle
to store on a shelf
next to the taste
of a ripe tomato
fresh from the vine,
and still warm from the sun.

I write poems
because I cannot paint,
cannot hang on my wall
the memory of that night
when I told him I loved him
and he looked not surprised,
but sad.

I cannot keep joy
in a jar with a shaker cap
next to the stove
so that I can add to soup
the taste of our laughter
that fills the night
as we drink cocktails
and play video games.
Instead, I write poems.