Helium

Boy, beautiful boy
when I talk to you I feel
like a bright red balloon
high above the world
steadfast in your long fingers
held by young hands until
the morning breaks
and you
finally
let me go.

Broke

I'd sell you bits of my
memories
an action figure here
a first edition there
if you'd give me
enough of the
root of all evil
to make it though
Christmas.

But you won't
because you can't
we're both sailing
in the boat
we thought was an
ocean-liner
plugging the holes
with the last three bucks
and fifty-two cents
we have left
between us.