Art

Love; Lost – Dom Schwab

Heaven Finally Found

 

We’re on a toxic mixture of Red Bull,

Mountain Dew, and lemon-flavored vodka.

Something’s pumping through my heart

and veins—I’m feeling brightly amorous.

 

Holding hands while talking has decoded

our defenses, has given way to making out

in my parents’ car (, borrowed,) in an empty lot;

steadily, we end up in the spacious backseat.

 

The perfume of our bodies, drinks, and cigarettes,

of the little “Bouquet” pine tree, complicates

these best-of-all-possible circumstances…

No; this is what I asked for, what I wanted.

 

Your hands remove your shirt, then undo my belt.

“Your eyes…are hazel—or, green?” I can’t decide

so I giggle while you finger the waistband of my briefs,

saying, “These are cute…” — And then they’re gone!

 

Like Goldilocks, I sit upon your chair;

I swallow porridge; I become your Baby Bear.

Having always believed in our Fairy Tale,

I drive home dreaming of our Happily Ever-After.

 

 

Tiny God

 

Here comes a handsome Fellow,

living his life and approaching me.

 

We met and talked and

reached the same conclusion:

We should get together,

so we hook up.

 

I lead him to my room, awkwardly

displaying all of my passions (i.e. self)

while he busied himself undressing me.

 

Beneath this large man’s quivering,

I maybe fell in love, but then,

looking up into his rising downcast face,

I saw he sought to be alone.

 

There goes my handsome Fellow,

living his life away from me.

 

Failing Hope

 

I consulted the I Ching

            regarding your visit: “Yes; however,

            the results won’t be what you expected.”

 

Blueberries are my favorite fruit, though

the nicotine on my fingers also contributes

to my extreme happiness of you being

here with me. Yes: I think it’s weird that

you want to remember being born.

Do you think it’s weird I want to die

to finally find out what happens after death?

 

I don’t want to become an adult

living through the current youthful culture,

 

so afterward, and then after you left,

I realized: I thought I loved you because

I thought you cared for me,

            but I was wrong. Now,

I’m more depressed than ever before…

            more than I ever thought possible.

 

The Window

 

Gazing out my window, I can see

that rain has come to wet a tree

where a sudden flock of sparrows swarm

in close, dark huddles keeping warm.

 

Deep clouds traverse the overcast sky,

it gives the impression that I will soon die.

The tree bark becomes dark and mossy

while the street behind is slick and glossy.

 

Darkness advances upon the earth,

like the reversal of my birth.

I reach toward the window—open wide!

The sparrows are either fearful or tongue-tied…

 

Storm clouds quicken this day’s night,

plus every streetlamp fails to light;

the rain descends as heavy drops:

I can smell it now, and for a while after it stops.

 

Rain pounds the pond, and everywhere, too;

the backyard is dark, the atmosphere blue:

I love twilit rain, for it has a different sound…

I hope, one day, to join it, traveling the world renowned.