Just Checking

Out on the road after I fixed up
my old jalopy of a heart

Bandy veins and
gappy ventricles
don’t seem to hold down
my baggage too well

Just bounced out
a case of the willies
and now the ghosts of women
dead from love gone wrong*
litter the road
with their lost red shoes

Dang, and a case of the heebie jeebies
broke open too
a bunch of random legs and arms 
no one wants any part of them!

My running board of love
is hanging from the chassis
and the Blues Brothers
refuse to play on my radio

Will you love me anyway?
Will you still say, “I do?”

 

 

 

*One theory of the origin of the expression “the willies” is from “wila,” “vila” and several other variants, the “wilis” have been staples of Slavic folklore for centuries. “Wilis” are usually depicted as the spirits of young women who have died from love gone wrong in some respect and haunt the forests forever after, luring young men to their deaths

 

For April Poem-a-Day

Restart

Need to get to Home Depot
and pick up some tools:

Love screwdrivers
heartache wrenches
heartstring pullers or such

My ticker skips a beat
then stops every damn time
I see you step from the shower

I had a 20 pack of love poems
by Neruda, “Starts the coldest heart!”
but lost the instructions

Any ideas for something more reliable
than this four-valve gizmo of mine?

 

 

For April Poem-a-Day
And Twiglets

Outside the Lines

You have to stop skydiving
Into my heart.

Ok, no, don’t stop,
it’s amazing, but

Picture this:
I am a haystack,
and you are on fire

Picture this:
I am the eight ball
and you are a pool shark

Picture this:
I am the chowder,
you are the spoon

But I can’t seem to paint you
Even with words –

Your eyes have no parachute,
no ripcord, no harness

and I don’t know how to color
in freefall.

 

 

 

For April Poem-a-Day