old poems that i forgot that i wrote….

it was only yesterday that he was born
the magic of corduroy questions
a picture of squirming kisses
a translucent laugh, more delicious than coffee….
my son.

he craps nite and day,
but i change him,
and embrace the naked baby….

these poems brought to you by barbie angell and her stainless steel whirlpool refrigerator….

when i look at you i know it’s true
that god is in the details.
it seems i’ve found when i look around
a place where i can not fail.
a perfect man is not my plan
from my little baby boy.
i don’t intend to try to mend
as if you were a toy.
my gift to you is pure and true
a life of love and lessons.
not to annoy, not to destroy,
but only give my blessings.

written by barbie angell
for lennon

last call….

and so alone i sit, and my life has turned to shit,
but what’s a restless writer left to do?
should i find an empty bottle,
or a skinny neck to throttle,
or curl up in my bed until it’s through?

what’s a girl to think
when there’s nothing left to drink
and the bartender is locking up the door?
when the nite has turned to day,
and there’s nothing left to say,
and your brain is slowly leaking to the floor?