Green Plastic and Green Trees

floating over red vinyl
in the closet,

she said,
"looks just like art,
like someone should be
somewhere else with people
more like her"

looks like seven dollars
blue and plaid
and better than you expected
once again.

and where are you? thin
like furniture legs and still not aware
of the pictures our
childhood produced together
"you should always have it you said"
and i went down and brought it here -

love surrounded by green wood
and green plastic and green trees
and party green of all the green girls
and green boys who came here,

yet where are you my love,
my burdened heart sang only to your eyes,
blue like the birds my father likes
to name in backyards -

where did you get that? where is the
rent? you look great.
once again, where are you?

are you lost in vinyl dreams and girls
with squinted eyes? you should be here
posted on the wall beside
the photograph
you told me i should always have

and melted between the racks of belts
and tweeded jackets one cut short
of missing shoulder pads -
and a lifestyle that implies all that
it might suggest

and rosied like the sober girl
now happy once again
and the steeez she finds in places
you long to find yourself.