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H. Maure Luke

Location: Chicago, IL
Date of Birth: 04/18/77
Published in: Various school publications


November 1961


getting ready

hacking coughing

in a classic coca-cola fountain glass I mixed
Hurricanes and the puppy drank most of them

spilled on the deck

the pool table at the funeral home

Mark making records of our stupidity

alcoholics and pot fiends

no deaths, no mysteries to solve

candle light hanging onto the wick tenuously
the wind was slight but unforgiving

reasons and explanations

SoCo shots on my birthday

holding hands, twining fingers, all under the guise of drunkenness

Poisoned coffee, full of cream and some sort of alcohol that burns

We did shots and performed finger ballets but

in the morning I had forgotten.

Hidden friends, hiding behind answering machines and voice mail and room mates

I miss the pranksters sometimes

Halloween masks that glowed in the dark bathroom stalls we hid

sick, sick, throwing up from the excesses of the nights we celebrated ourselves

a celebration of ourselves

lunatic hazes when we talked about now in the morning light of future

and tried to catch cancer and joy and nicotine in one glowing stick after another

a pack a day

sick, sick, with joy and misery

and nothing got done

and what lies ahead?

the bell tower where some of us first consummated our friendship

with paranoia and glee

and crazy eyebrow movements that convinced Sara of some deeper conspiracy

while we,

all of us,

gloated like profiteers of our own internal wars

this is astounding, believe me

when will those clouds all disappear

I dreamt of God who was half a wolf, who just completed his hunt

As I was waking he started to say something

I wonder what it was

I wonder if I don't already know

its voice clinging roughly to hewn words

with teeth of blood from the hunt

a girl at a prom in New Jersey excused herself from the dance, went to the rest room, gave birth to a baby, disposed of it in the feminine product waste recepticle, and went back to the dance.
Which words give meaning to something like that?

sick, sick, with misery

no deaths, no mysteries to solve

I've burned myself on an angel's wing. You're as close to Perfect as I've ever seen

I was playing the part of the ugly girl and every time the curtain fell

I got a standing ovation

break my heart every day I played the part a thousand years

On the floor, on the balcony, on chairs that spin faster than our minds

trying to wax poetic in early morning illusions

don't think I didn't catch your innuendos

by then it was now, and too late for regret
even if we did regret what we could never regret

My mother now says that I should go to New York,

where she can miss me and tell me she loves me.

He agreed that I will be the one to destroy him

I wonder if we meant the same thing

Forgive me, for wanting to be the one to destroy you

with misery, with joy

I want it like this, I won't have it unless it is this way

Show me who could know this, I want to see his face.

Someday, when I'm awfully low and the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking

beautiful Chicago

Those New Year's Eves when we were younger

drinking cheap beer and trying hard to believe

those voices that told us we had to believe

don't remind me what day it is

I watched When Harry Met Sally again, and again.

was a trifle drunk

of you, and the way you look tonight

I will think of you forever with the rain.