Love; Lost – Dom Schwab
June 18, 2020
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.