Para Mi Esposa

Yes I love you

How long we have loved

and endured

What is a lifetime

All of Her

Holding them in our hands,

neatly cut, well printed

photographs of moments,

and people now gone.

Here we are at our wedding.

Just you and I, your father,

and the judge at the town hall.

Here we are standing

in front of your parents house.

Here we are at the rehab center

visiting your mother 

right after we married.

She looked so overjoyed.

Even now, sitting at the table,

I can see her here, 

across from me, lighting up,

smiling, singing, 

making me laugh

and her herself as well.

Do you understand

how much of herself

lives on in you?

 

Because I Love You

How can you be sure that everyone

knows you love them?

Tell them over and over

and in as many ways as possible

so that they cannot possibly

misunderstand that, yes, even

these words are for you.

Even now, it is my voice 

living in your heart,

right where I always wish to be.

Sincerity and Conquest

Too many men,

and it's almost always men, 

have wasted too many lives,

too many words,

trying to conquer

that which is unconquerable,

that which can only be held

temporarily by force.

They all forget one crucial 

point, the words 

that actually rule the world,

I love you.

Continental Divide

Oh, I miss you!

Yes, yes I do.

Do you believe me?

I hope you do.

This longing,

must we endure it?

For now.

For now. 

Unsentimental

I love you

You are unsentimental

but it's only an act

You love me too

On these cold nights

beneath blankets

your head nestled 

on my shoulder

your hand resting

over my beating heart

There is peace 

between us 

in our imperfection

It wasn't always this way

But it is now

and for as long

as love can endure

For Maria, on a Saturday night in Long Beach

It was Saturday night as I was leaving a reading
that a young hispanic woman approached me in the street.
Her doe eyed look uttered for help before she even spoke.
She asked me if I knew of a church that was on the street

we were walking on. I said I was sorry, I didn't know
of a church being near us. She exhaled and hunched over,
just a little. I wished her luck in finding that church. I began
to walk more briskly to my car, her footsteps were slightly

behind mine. I turned when I saw my car parked in the
neighborhood. I looked back to the street and saw her
walking north in search. I wondered about her, her story,
her need to find a church at 9:30 p.m. on a Saturday night

in early autumn. As I began to pull away I saw her again.
She motioned for me to roll down my window. I did.
She said she was sorry to bother me, but wanted to know
if I knew where a certain street was. I said I did not,

that the only street I knew of by that name was nowhere
close by, certainly no place she could make on foot
in the next forty minutes. I told her to give me a moment.
I called my friend who lived in town and asked him

about that street. He confirmed what I already felt and said
that it was farther up in the far north end of the city.
She pulled out a business card for the church. I told her
I could call them and she could ask them where exactly

they are. I dialed the number and handed her the phone.
They picked up almost instantly. She began to speak
Spanish that was flecked with an English cadence.
There were a few hiccups in her speech when she struggled

momentarily with a word, but nothing that took away
from her need to be understood. I could hear them begin
to give her directions so I handed her a pen and paper.
She jotted everything down quick and handed me the phone.

When she showed me the directions I knew she had
no chance at getting to that church on foot in the time
she needed. "I normally wouldn't offer and you don't have
to trust me, but if you would like I could give you a ride

to the church," she thought for a second."Ok," she said.
I cleared my passenger seat of the bag of cds that had
been sitting there and the books of poetry I had just
picked up. She opened the door and sat down.

She said that her pastor had told her about this church
and that she had been looking for it for hours but had not
been able to find it. She wasn't from here she said.
She began to tell me the why of now:

her name is Maria, she is twenty years old, her fiance
is twenty-two, they both pick up small jobs here and there
to pay for the motel room they stay at, it's been like this
for an entire year, her mother was a drunk and kicked

them out, her mother-in-law was a drunk and drug addict
and used the money they gave her for rent to feed
her addiction, she had just found out she was pregnant
with their child, he had hurt his back the previous day,

they were trying to gather enough money to pay for their
room the next morning, she was hoping the people at church
could help her out with some money, she had only been able
to get thirty-five dollars over the course of the day,

she asked me if I was Christian or Catholic. I told her
I was brought up Catholic but that I wasn't practicing. I said
that I still do my best to help people and be a good person.
She seemed satisfied with that answer. She told me there

was a man who was going to help them out with getting
an apartment but that it wouldn't be ready for them until
a week from now. Until then, they still had to fight to keep
themselves under a roof. We drove along the street,

miles from where we had started, and told her it was still
a little further up. When I first saw her I thought she had
to be a teenager. The truth wasn't too far from that.
I wanted to ask her about school, if she even thought about

college. I didn't. I cared enough to just worry about now.
About getting her to church. This young woman who
could have been my sister, my cousin. I didn't care that
I was going to be late to the party I was attending.

It didn't matter. They would understand. We arrived
at the church and I pulled over. I pulled out my wallet
and said it's not much and handed her a ten dollar bill.
I took the change I kept for meters and gave it all.

I told her I didn't expect anything from her. I wished
her luck as sincerely as I have ever meant it. She said
thank you. I watched her enter the church. I turned
and joined the tides of the streets once more.