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POEMS & STUFF
12 Got Married
Thanks for telling me 12 got married the other day,
it’s only taken me five years to build this wall and I was growing tried of it anyway, while I wasn’t happy, the pain had died down and I stopped shooting junk last spring.
Thanks for telling me she got married and was dressed in white lace looking simply beautiful.
Still as slim as ever.
I remember green was her best color and she love to write in it as well
long letters from Delaware that filled a box in my bedroom, From under the bed I would pull it reading songs she’d sing to me
My fingers ran over the pictures, of us, together in so many places, at home, in love
But thanks for telling me she got married,
I was seeing my therapist once every other week and now find that I am lonely for our weekly chats, and she need a new car, I’m glad to help with payments.
I don’t need to replace the knives yet plastic works just fine
and I could trade in the Turbo for something a bit slower anyway,
but thanks for telling me
12 got married
It’s been years since I’ve heard her name spoken
I’ve changed all my friends and rarely come to the city at night.
My phone number’s unlisted and I only drink in gay bars
She’ll be honeymooning in Montreal you say
staying on St. Catherine street.
She will spent time in the old part of the city and ride the horse drawn carriages there
Lunch outside in full days sun cafes
Dance late at Rock Heads Paradise
Come back to her room and make love to exhaustion
then write, with her back to the rising sun,
songs of his beauty
sip white wine and remember his taste
slowly wake him and start it again.
Thanks for telling me 12 got married
now stop crying and help me with this wall
I know I put something useful behind it.
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Yes I Love You
Yes I love you come in,
sit down and tell me all about it
I have known this feeling before so lets make the best of it
at some point you say I will need to need you
as in food and water
but you say more and sleep will be as death standing in the way of
our togetherness
nothing more important than this feeling, nothing more important
then you?
and what of the things that occupy my mind now? I stay up all
night with good books and news reports of going ons in their
middle east and Africa.
I spent as much time as I can in the city to marvel at the works
of Ben Johnson and cross the bridges of Robert Mosses
will you bring more joy then this?
will I have a better feeling with you then I have when crossing
the Brooklyn bridge at night with a full moon to light my way?
will you give me more then Mozart and take less then Charlie
Parker
will it do all this and last
will you do all this and stay
so yes I love you what ever that might be I hear it’s different
every time
Like junkies chasing after first highs or philosophers running
down a dream.
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Good Bye, I’m Going
Good bye, I’m going to Vietnam, he states
Promise me you won’t get killed she cries.
Promise me not to die.
Summer, late, 1968
Promise me not to die.
He stands next to a Ford Falcon wagon
Your mothers car
She gave it so innocently
its fold down seats like open notebooks
Teenage history waiting to be written there.
It took you 20 years to marry
do you ever forget.
Morning comes and young boys go off to war,
and madness
and fate
Some where on a river bank
at night alone in the rain
A young man brakes a promise
to a girl who believes in god
and loves her mother.
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Could We Change This
Could we change this
I come in with the every night look
Could we change this
Every night I come in with the same look.
You don’t say much
I talk too little
Is there a point we could borrow from the neighbors?
I’m missing ours.
Dinner and conversation
My day as always yours the same?
Do we do this each night out of duty or God’s fear
Can this go on?
I was single in Boston 1978
without guilt
I walked without chains over the Charles River to Harvard Square
Drank St. Paulie Girls and Guinness Stouts through a straw
Danced naked with Vasser girls till dawn
work my lover to have lunch in Vermont
Sharing razors as we showered and shaved
Hands wrapped around each others
heads back and humming
Blue ties and crab salad
Hands pressed alone matching gray pinstripe
Locked and forgotten
I’m back
Dinner
Pass me that and I’ll hand you this
We’ll buy a Golden Retriever
and have a boy this time.
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STUFF From the Job
Bureaucracy with a Soul; Dynamic Women in State Government
Dr. Amy Morris,Ph.D and William Bailey, MPA
A workshop which explores the relationship between traditional modes of thought, family, and community roles, and how the culture of bureaucracy reacts to them. Forms of workplace violence are also examined. This interactive workshop allows the participants to find new ways of dealing with workplace contradictions by getting in touch with some very old ideas.
Grief in the Workplace
Jan Paul, MA and William Bailey, MPA
From earthquakes and death to transfers and retirement the workplace is filled with traumatic events that cause grief.
This workshop looks at grief in the workplace, the causes, effects and ways of dealing with it. This workshop will give participants tools to handle all forms of workplace grief invaluable for women in today’s workplace.
Quarterly Review of Films
Poets&Writers
Send E-Mail to: willbailey@bigfoot.com
Copyright © 2001 William Bailey, MPA. All Rights Reserved