friends

His name is Pelican Pete. His close friends call him Bob. Their names are Jiggy and Spook. The three of them work at the beach, cleaning the restrooms and sorting the trash. At night, or after work, they find an empty sand dune on the south end of the beach, toke up, finish off a sixpack, or two. They are homeless, harmless and just about as rudderless as can be. Two days ago, Spook died. Just lay back, gazing at the stars, closed his eyes and never woke up. Jiggy and Bob buried him; that is, they made whatever arrangements would be made for someone who had little need for anything but a hole six feet deep. Bob did call Spook’s mother, who lived in Toledo. He told her that Spook, whose real name was Kelvin, wanted him to call her and tell her that he loved her. Nothing of the sort, happened, of course, though Spook had a tattoo on his left arm that read “Mother,” so Jiggy figured Bob had some license to stretch the truth. The day after they buried him, Jiggy and Bob were back at work. They missed their friend. Especially at night, though the beer did go a bit farther. Or further. They weren't exactly sure which.

will she

She wonders if she’s even
capable of being loved,
having
thought she loved, but not been
loved in return, which she thought was
part of the deal,
along with being loved the
way she wants to be
loved, which is exactly what everyone wants, of course –
to be loved the way you want to
be loved, with that one crystal addendum:
by
the
one
you want loving you.
So, she cries, sometimes, more, other times,
because
they don’t ever seem to and she
wonders if it’s her, though she knows,
really, that it isn’t, that she just
hasn’t
found
him who will make her
feel
the
way
she wants to feel, and she thinks this,
when it’s quiet and dark and the wind
rustles the leaves on the elm outside her window on
brittle, autumn nights:
will
she
ever?
the little voice inside her says,
yes,
but she doesn’t
believe
it.
always, as well she
shouldn't.

what is

A face, a smile
a toss of the head,
but from afar,
where
everyone’s safely
ensconced,
or at least just
ensconced, for what counts
as
“safe,” is subject
to debate.
Too little is not enough,
too much
is dangerous. Slivers
of moments can set off fragments of hope, which is not
always
a good thing, though some would
say
otherwise.
Years ago, now, he wrote:
"remember what was, not
what
wasn’t," and
he reminds himself of that, often enough
to qualify as mantra.
So, he remembers
what
was, and
stops
there.
Mostly.

i ... bird

If I were a bird, I would want to be a pelican. Strong-winged. High-flier. Acrobatic. Fearless. Over water, where the smooth air currents flow. I would write my autobiography, but keep it short. I’d call it “The Pelican: Brief.” Or maybe I’d be an eagle.

she-cret

“Everyone has a secret,” he said. “There’s something dark about everyone.” “What’s mine?” she asked. He laughed. “That would be too easy,” he said, “especially if I guessed correctly. “ “What if I lied?” she asked. “If someone guesses correctly, it’s impossible to lie.” “You know that for a fact?” she asked. “I do,” he said. “What’s your secret?” she asked. He just smiled.

mortal sin

She hooks up at last call. His name is Phil. That’s all she knows. That’s all she wants to know. They go to her place. She feels safer, there, even though he doesn’t seem the type who would slit her throat, though tomorrow, Rachel, her friend, her best friend, will tell her she was crazy. They do the requisite tango, then dance for real. After, she tells him to go, just like that. He seems confused, for he’s younger. “Can I see you, again,” he asks, and she just says, “No.” She cries when he’s gone, then drinks herself to sleep. When she wakes in the morning, still in her clothes, she remembers few details, only that she sinned, as she meant to. When she leaves for work, the doorman greets her as always: “G’morning, Mrs. G.” She doesn’t hear him, or at least acts as though she didn’t. Or couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

peli-can

outlined
against a blue September sky.
flapflapflapflap
(looking)(looking)(looking)
flapflapflapflap
(scanning)(scanning)(scanning)
flapglideflapflapglideg…l…i…d…e
turn … turn
dive
45
wings out
90
wings v’ed
wings in
twist
splash.
dinner!