Peter the saint who laughs

Bringing me to Irishtown
with playfully wise eyes
the only man I’ve ever really loved
like an ancient prophet
When Peter smiles
I cherish the image
of light beginning
of joy
life
mystery

The perfect rhythms
that make it worth the struggle
rocking whole worlds
making day of night

Drinking coffee
talking
in the afternoon
loving you even more
after you say
you love Oscar
because he lives
in a trash can

More than a sweetheart
a listner
a major listner
who knows what I mean
even when I myself don’t know
what I’m saying
knowing what I mean
without me saying it

When I see Peter smile
my day
is brightened
simply by
the look
of him

When Peter smiles
I am free
of phoney
poses
of saying
one thing
while something else
is going on
inside my head
….. you know, shittalk.

When I see Peter
I see strength
compassion
sensitivity
gentleness
I know harmony/joy
is a blessing
that needs to be held
like magic jelly
made of harmony/joy
the sweet song
is a blessing
of breath and words
When I see Peter
I see strength
When I see Peter

But I confess
that sometimes
at night
while reading
and watching
you turn over
in your sleep
I wonder
if you died
who I’d
fuck first