you bedevil me

You bedevil me with your dark and immutable truth
with your tales of sensible shoes in Duluth
with your locked doors and trapdoors and fences and gates
with your hardscrabble Chevvy with Illinois plates
Your pale pink and perfect lips, your tells-a-story three child hips
the fact that there’s nothing wrong with you
that $30 wouldn’t fix – in my irreligious dreams
You bedevil me.

You bedevil me – you’re the music that floats through my head
with how you can’t wait to rush me to bed
with your smiling eyes plucked from angels who fell
with your tales of the ghosts of the Carlyle Hotel
Your heart like a train, your farewell kisses that tastes of rain
Your high toned concrete wig
and your gutta-percha cane – in my reckless, shiftless days
You bedevil me.

You’re the shot that laid the boxer low in the sweltering arena,
you were a buzzing rush in the blood of my ears long before I seen you.
You’re everything in that whorehouse in Baton Rouge I’m trying to forget.
You’re that that blue, blue letter you wrote your old man doin’ a nickel up in Joliet.
You’re the coursing in the veins of my dreams – dreamed both jointly and severally
You bedevil me.

You bedevil me, with your sympathy for Milan Kundera
when you walk naked through the room wearing nothing but my wayfarers
you’re the cufflinks on my shirtsleeves; you’re the pocket on my vest
you’re the hunger in my footfall, you’re the flutter in my chest
with your magazine heart, your kisses sweet and your tongue so tart
with your memory
when we’re apart – in my half dreamed, half-loved life
you bedevil me.

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This entry was published on 04/12/2008 at 4:00 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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