An Education

“I wanna write a romance novel,” she says,

“where things are messy, things are perfect,

where romance isn’t smooth,

and the lovers don’t quite know what they’re doing.

Otherwise, you go into love thinking everyone’s got it all together,

and that’s not the case at all.

We’re imperfect beings, our fiction should be an education in that

So that reality goes a little smoother.”

Along Came Poly

“I’m polyamorous,” he said, smoking his cigarette.

“Meaning?” I said.

“I love many people. I don’t know how anybody can love just one,” he said.

He exhaled and watched the smoke rise.

“My best friends is going away,” he said, “not forever, but for a long time. I hope she’ll be happy.”

We leaned against the adjacent wall.

I imagined he did know how to love just one, and did. But who am I to know anything?

Riding in the Car with Roger

We met outside church,

you sang those songs you wrote with an old country twang

Susan gave you her coat

Katie and I drove you to Ingles

We talked about God and Jesus and YouTube

You bought us cookies and Coca Cola

and then we dropped you off

outside Homeward Bound.

 

At the time we met,

you were thinking of driving out to California,

but I’m glad you’re thinking about staying.

The world needs more people like you.

Like Dandelions

The stage is set,

the audience is arriving, sitting down

We are undressing, redressing, getting into character

assuming our roles

Jim calls time and I take the stage, talk to the people

See how their day is, make them grow comfortable

Soon it’s time to go, I give the signal, we start to act

There are hula hoop performance, salsa dances,

excerpts from Joyce and Chekov

The living statue gives an erotic monologue

I sing a song, have my heart broken

and it’s all okay, all good

Tonight we’ll do it again

Then it’s curtain call,

we take a bow.

The audience cheers, we depart for the yellow room

They depart, we change

back into our normal selves, whatever that means

We talk with those who stay behind, clean up,

celebrate our victories, recap anything weird that might have happened

linger in the foyer, not wanting leaving

absorbing all the post-play magic that we can.

Then there are hugs and well wishes,

we get in our cars, we drive off

The next morning, when it’s not a theater night

A strange sense of loss consumes me

a grasping at the wind,

but theater is a moment, and eventually the place will cease its run

and all will move on

like Dandelions

The work never ends

God of life and passion and everything good,

bless my friends as they go on their way.

The Desire to be Known

I think it’s fascinating that,

as long as the disciples knew Jesus,

they had they hardest time knowing Him as He was,

Savior and LORD, God of the universe.

The concept was just too high for them.

Yes, they did not yet have the discernment of the Holy Spirit

while He was with them in flesh,

but I don’t think much has changed since then.

The more years I spent with Jesus,

the larger and more intimate and mysterious He becomes.

He reminds me that He is LORD and I am man,

but He want to be known just as I would know my wife

or parents or friends.

So, in a way, that invites me to appreciate the mystery of those

around me, to constantly be amazed by them,

as they lower their guard and I lower mine,

and we all catch a glimpse of something beautiful,

something God designed in the very beginning.