Whitney Houston Sings “Million Dollar Bill”

featured in the poetry forum December 16, 2021  :: 0 comments

Friday morning and everything
shines like a gold coin—the sun,
you on my cell phone screen,
robe thrown open
to show your shimmering body.

What a gift to have
this time with you, handsome—
both of us undressed
and speaking our desires.
After we’ve made it rain,
bills littering our longing,

I feel rich with every sight and sigh,
the conversation that follows,
the moment I see
your million-dollar smile
as we wish each other happiness
and sign off to start the day.
We are abundant.

editors note:

Make every one abundant. TGIF! (We welcome Isaiah to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay

All in My Feelings

featured in the poetry forum September 17, 2021  :: 0 comments

Maybe it was listening
to George Michael sing,
“I Can’t Make You Love Me” on repeat,
or three days of summer rain,
the drops hitting the sill
in their unsteady rhythm.

Maybe it was my husband
calling to say, “I miss you,”
or my beautiful friend,
who pulled me into his lap
and kissed me so deliciously
my head filled with light.

Maybe it was the vaccine
running through my body,
spinning off cells to save me,
or Harlem waking from its long sleep,
people in parks again,
barbecues,
drinkers laughing at the bar.

Maybe it was another song,
the diva shouting, “I want you,”
over a disco beat,
and how that chorus caught
in my throat like a sugary sadness,
hunger, gratitude for living.
All of those feelings. All of them.

editors note:

Yes! All of them! – mh clay

Thirsty

featured in the poetry forum May 25, 2020  :: 0 comments

I want everything–
the pop song’s dance beat,

two glasses of wine, this kiss,
your hand on my hips,

happy hour haze,
tank tops, glitter,

the drag queen’s
too many costumes,

our bartender’s shirt off,
his smile when he pours

our last round,
sitting side by side

knees touching,
the train and its path home,

the sun going down
over Manhattan,

summer sweating
out our longing,

wringing us like a sponge,
a glass of water.

Baby, hand it over.
Let me drink up.

editors note:

A lovely thirst. Waiting for my everything, too. – mh clay

Splatter Reel

featured in the poetry forum November 29, 2018  :: 0 comments

I’m done with Desire,
that midnight menace,

but here he comes again
in his skin-tight tank top.

Even when I run,
he’s around every corner,

swallowing my screams,
mouth on mine,

his masked face
obscuring the stars.

editors note:

We cry “Victim!” as we open the wine. – mh clay