a new condo sprang up 
while I tried to clear a dried speck of tomato sauce from my glasses
I try to say good morning to a passing elder on the street
at once loud enough (if they like to be greeted by strangers)
and quiet enough (if they don’t)
we’re off to a good start today
trying, at least
spring’s in the air
a few months too early
but we’re here
we’re here
we're somewhere in here

First date

I see them at a distance first. 

Tall, nicely tailored pants, 
a hat not made for this weather. 

Then their voice. 
Deeper than I had imagined, 
and gentle, saying my name. 

Then their voice telling jokes 
and laughing about something 
you wouldn’t understand,
but I do. 

The plants at the conservatory
distract me marvelously
from my rain-soaked jeans 
and the awkwardness 
of being alive

and the terrible vulnerability 
of the reason for our meeting.
I am thirty-two, and I have never
been loved – really loved – and 
they are thirty-three, perhaps 
just as open

I'm Being Good

I'm being good,

I'm planning my obsolescence,

I'm trying to strip all the magic

out of all I do.

I'm not feeling romantic,

I'm not enjoying drinking,

I'm not sticking to a web I've spun,

I'm walking with my head down,

the neighbours best avoid me,

I'm pure, too pure,

hoovering all the space

of the lane I'm in,

I'm being helpful,

but then doing whatever the

devil I want,

I'm having bad thoughts,

I'm wishing sabotage,

I'm having good thoughts, too;

I'm working through that,

I'm a pebble being rinsed,

the water has not moved me,

I'm taking so much time,

to rearrange my thoughts,

this is me when I am good,

I am being good.