Ours are Forever

Smoke is filling the room now

and her father, he’s gone away.

Although he’s not too hard to visit,

she has no bed in which to stay.

My father is still finishing his beer

while she’s lifting her glass of champagne.

Be careful when opening the fridge door,

my mother's slowly going insane.

We couldn’t see then how dark it was,

it would be too long before days got better.

She turned on the light the night she wrote that

Ours are Forever.

My girl has twinkling eyes of diamonds,

she’s become my lover and my teacher.

Since diamonds are usually forever,

will she eventually become my preacher?

On the television, we’ve got our friends,

but the doctor is knocking on the door.

Though neither of us has slept for years,

he has to sulk away ‘cause we’re poor.

And learning how to best lie

proved to be our greatest endeavor.

I’d sleep in until the evening, dreaming that

Ours are truly Forever.

Those two friends, yes, they were once lovers,

I once heard it ended in predictable fashion.

He dealt her the jack of hearts, or so it goes,

and it took too long to regain her passion.

In the first months, I couldn’t stop vomiting—

we were holding each other’s hair.

Out of habit, she kept me in my bedroom

and I should’ve stepped out to care.

You should know by now that one boy’s girl

will soon be another’s sunken treasure.

Since I’ve never had many cards to play,

Ours could be Forever.

I was laughing in the middle of the circle

though I’m not sure I quite got the joke.

They’d warn me “you’re just obsessed, my friend”,

and then they’d take a toke.

Two stupid boys are wrestling,

she sighs at them while they shove.

We’re rolling, groaning and sweating—

well, aren’t we just makin’ love?

Whenever I feel like there’s sun, rain or hail

I know it’s her controlling the weather.

Meanwhile, Mother Nature is shouting that

Ours can’t be Forever.

Under the sun that shines for us so brightly,

she leans in just to lick my ear.

To be afraid is to be incompetent,

at least, that’s what I hear.

Our orchestra is playing too loudly,

but I can still hear the sound

of children picking up the pennies

that I’ve dropped onto the ground.

Now that they’ve made a wish and profit,

they’re off to visit the fortune teller.

And though he’s smoking heavily, he says

Ours might be Forever.

My grandpa, he wonders when Jesus is coming

as he plays Yahtzee out on his porch.

His time for loving is gone from him now,

and without hesitation, he passes onto me the torch.

That Lutheran guilt has escaped us now

as the mother resigns from the head

of the church her daughter only went to

to learn love and the alphabet.

As for believing in things that I couldn't see,

I used to think I was far too clever.

The only thing driving me then was that

Ours will be Forever.

Though I've dropped my baby yet again,

she has about seventeen lives,

and though she needs my touch to live,

all my fingers have turned into knives.

Her garden was full of handsome flowers,

but they all wilted and ran inside.

Trampled by her unfortunate beauty,

they couldn’t grow ‘till they cried.

Her hair flows just like a waterfall, and

is beautiful as a mallard’s green feather;

The first time I'd gotten too close to it, I knew

Ours must be Forever.

Three pretty girls are moving across the water,

and I despise myself when I try to look.

They all look like my girl, in their camo gear,

so it doesn’t count in my book.

Her hamster, it’s feeling quite queasy,

and her family tells her nothing but lies.

On the eve of her golden birthday,

It’s going to get better before it dies.

And though we’re feeling quite thirsty,

you can’t pump water without a lever.

When the drought has lasted this long,

Ours feel like Forever.

It wasn’t my fault my back was still sore

or if her mouth was hanging wide open.

Even the tooth fairy gets jealous sometimes,

for her smile’s only cracked, not broken.

That boy, he wasn’t touching her too nicely;

yes, I'd forgotten how to stand.

I slept with the cat real low that night, promising

I’d never again ask for a third hand.

As we turned off our separate lights,

I knew I couldn’t bear to hear her

crying to herself at night, thinkin’

Ours aren’t quite Forever.

It’s that time of the month again,

and our problems are always on track.

While one just straightens their posture,

the other ends up breaking their back.

The time we’ve wasted is dead now,

while our conversations, they fly off of the shelves.

And just like your eyelashes against snowflakes,

you’ve got to shield this from ourselves.

No, I can't imagine ever being born

without reading your spring-soaked letter,

signed near the exit, with a heart inside,

Ours are Forever.

-Spring, 2009