TRAVEL IS A FEELING

Travel is a feeling

that swells in your heart

You may forget the music that played in Hyde Park

or the name of that cafe on the Champs Élysées

But you'll never forget the warm glow

that filled you to brimming

and made you glad to be alive

BETTER THAN BEING ALONE

People say,

"I would rather be alone rather than married to him,"

as if being alone is bad

but at least not as bad as being with him

When being alone

means cooking Gallo Pinto

while taking belts (that's what my mother calls it)

from a Jack Daniel's bottle

That ain't bad

That's the best

The Shameful Stamp

• Imagine

if the anti-Irish sentiment

that waned mid century 

was as relentless and unremitting

as the anti-semitism that still permeates 

so many cultures of the world

we were donkeys fresh off the boat

both a description of our brawn

and a disparagement

micks, and paddies, and harps

bogtrotters if we did not have the privilege of education

in southern parts, hillbillies was a term that first applied to us

but now

we have St. Patrick's Day

and parades

where everyone is suddenly Irish

and begging a kiss

but they

have protests

with torches

and hate

GLOBETROTTING

When you view it on a map

it looks so far away

but our apartment was mere steps from your front door

The trek to town was longer

but the view of the Reek was worth it

We toasted here and there and there

and tipped the best bartender

so that he could fill

the most enormous empty Powers Whiskey bottle

with all our loose change

UNTITLED

There you are

that fatal moment

standing on the edge

Just when you

think no one's looking

I see you pick your wedge

7/29/1998 - Pierce Pettis at Club Passim

RSVP

Why do I rehearse disappointment?

When all signs are pointing toward

being forgotten

or left out

I prepare myself for the blow

no phone call

a gut punch

DANCING WITH MYSELF

I've felt the earth shake

and I've seen the breeze blow

I've savored so many of the world's delights

The world's best cinnamon bun

praline feuilletine

beef bourguignon

a rain dripped raspberry with the smell of mint 

crushing under my feet 

And yet

I'm watching the tip burn down

closer and closer to the end of the cigarette