Spring Night

I wonder if it’s the coffee-
as I turn on my side,
switch on the lamp
read the Billy Collins collection on my bed,
– I always have a book or two within reach.
It’s 1:04, I switch off my lamp,
count to a hundred, stop at eighty two
put a pillow between my knees, look up
think about how like vomit I spew
21 poems the week my boss fired me;
I didn’t know I was sick. I need to check in more.
The best revenge is to outlive our enemies,
better still, forget them and never be them,
I flip my pillow, flop to the side and face the wall,
maybe God wants me awake.
Is there someone to pray for?
I pray for mum and dad, I pray that their joy be full,
a selfish prayer really because I am their joy.
What a wonderful thought. And what else is prayer
but wonderful thoughts extended to heaven?

Saturday Spring

and I say to you
between prescribing my favourite flavour ice cream
and damning my least favourite fruit
I’ll pause

smile and say,
you are the four seasons distilled
stirred and swirled
you are my summer solstice and winter eclipse
stellar and serene

you’re my saturday day Häagen-Dazs Salted Caramel with the nuts in
and I want to make smoothies with you
bananas, raspberries, blueberries, mangoes
no apples,

and this is how I daydream of you in spring,
what will summer bring?