REDHEAD (TO DENVER)

my dear
you are between a rock and a hard place
your face does not illuminate the same as the others
your lights are few and speckled
but i’ve always loved freckles
you are a grid system at first glance
i know they tell you real women have curves
but real women know better than that
sometimes you are cold and the conversation runs dry
but it’s not easy being as high as you are all the time
i love you
i never want to leave you
and i know you don’t believe me
but you are the manic pixie dream girl
who at times is slightly annoying
but i know your heart is too full
homeless men laying out sleeping bags
on the floor of your rib cage
great tent cities on your shoulders

they try to tell you your heart is a cash register
but i have heard your heart ticking at the cabaret tower
sixteenth street a string on your cello soul
i am in love with you
you smell like the west
like dust and beerspit

you are the little sister anxiously awaiting her groom
california, california, california
they all leave you for california
but you and i both know they’ll be back
california is a pathological liar
her lie detector tests look like her richter scales
it is you i love
when i am within you i hear your quiet insecure voice
you’ve been torn up, torn down
and the mountains will always take your shoes off
when you party too hard

your children
they play along the light rail tracks
they run off to school at d.u. at m.s.c.d. c.c.d. at b.f.e.
but at the end of the night, they’ll always come back
i am a part of you, beautiful
let the jesters run off to hollywood
we will show our unpainted faces to the world together
“next stop, 10th and osage” you whisper
“convention center”
“pepsi center elitch gardens”
let them think you’re vain
i know why you stop where you do
i know in december you get lonesome for your heroes
you refrigerate poetry in your cold air
the mercury cafe measuring your temperature
big blue bear
your awkward oversized blatant invitation
your 2 am curfew

don’t cry
the tears will freeze in your eyes
you are the rose that grows from the black ice
you are an indie movie theater
you are a redhead
my midnight streetlight as i caress up and down you elevators
you are leela’s coffee
tarantula billiards
you are definitely not wells fargo
they may tattoo you
but you are swing dancing at dazzle and above poetry cafes
you are 18th and market 21st and wynkoop union station tattered cover cheeseman park wash park everywhere inside of yourself
you are two-fisted mario’s blasting shit metal into your bitter chilly hair
you are the girl in a hoody and a skirt
hot dog stands that new york rejected and chicago was too tired for
you are the moodiest girl i know
you get a little too drunk on coors light
and you let far too many stoners crash on your city park couch
your heating bill is way too high
and you are never the same person twice
but i like crazy girls
the mad ones
and i know you will get the everything you desire
just keep being a mile above the rest
freckleface
a beautiful underdog who dances best drunk

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012

READ “BOSTON LOGAN”

Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

12 thoughts on “REDHEAD (TO DENVER)”

  1. I was in love with a redhead, briefly, and (give or take a curve or a turn of phrase) I recognize all the symptoms. Nicely done.

  2. Enjoyed this! I’m not a city guy but brought back memories of camping in Rocky Mtn Pk. forty-odd years ago; the hummers (the birds) and sleet on our tent and an alpine lake in perfect stillness.

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