Falling in Love is Like...

Falling in love is like
when you first
come in from the cold
and you can't quite
feel your toes and fingers yet.

Falling in love is like
waking up from
a bad dream
when you're still
panicked that
the crazy/scary/sad thing
might be true.

Falling in love
is a huge disaster
for my cherished
sense of unwantability.

Falling in love
is ruining my plan
to bitterly face
middle age on my own.

Falling in love is like
waiting for the sunrise,
that part where you're like,
"C'mon, c'mon, any minute now! When? When?"

Falling in love is like
walking on your foot
when its fallen asleep
- before circulation returns
every step is agony.

Falling in love
is dangerous
to my comfortable loneliness

Falling in love
is devastating
to my lack of
self-esteem.


-Jim DuBois
Dec 25, 2015

Instead of "Passion"

a desire to record
a desire to experiment
a desire to communicate
a desire to learn
a desire to explore
a desire for chaos
a desire for order
a desire for change
a desire to pass time
a desire to preserve
a desire to be generous
a desire to be selfish
a desire to finish
a desire to get started
a desire to create
a desire to destroy
a desire to be distracted
a desire to achieve a goal
a desire for peace of mind


-Jim DuBois
April 2016

What have you done, dandelion?

What have you done, dandelion?
How will you pay your rent on this hillside?
Anton Chekhov was a doctor
and wrote great novels.
What have you done, dandelion?

What have you done, dandelion?
What have you done, little butterfly?
What have you done, grassy hillside?
How will you fulfill your obligation to society?
What have you done, dandelion?

What have you done?
How will you live?
What have you achieved?
What will your legacy be?
What have you done, dandelion?

What have you done, dandelion?
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was a musical prodigy at age 4.
Benjamin Franklin discovered electricity.
Genghis Khan conquered most of several continents.
What have you done, dandelion?

What have you done for America, Dandelion?
At least get a job selling lottery tickets and cigarettes
instead of absorbing the free sunshine all day.
Please, dandelion, please!
What will you do, dandelion?

What will you do?

-Jim DuBois
April 24, 2016

Nachos at Fire & Water

They used to
bake the Nachos
in the oven
at first,
back in the day,
20 years or so ago,
at Fire & Water
and I remember
eating them
on a particular day.

Even though
they took longer
to make,
they came out great,
but then
Fire & Water started
using the microwave,
and they
weren't the same
anymore.

It was
a long time ago
and I never expected
something as ordinary
as that particular
plate of Nachos
to have such resonance
in my memory.


-Jim DuBois
Dec 19 2015

It Began

It began
with the smile on Jake's face.

Someone dropped their keys
Someone else fainted.

Jake kept smiling.

The people on the sidewalk
felt their neck hair stand on end
and their skin tingle.

Many looked to the sky.

Up on the 30th floor,
a woman turned into a sparrow
and flew away into the clouds.


-Jim DuBois
March 30, 2016
(revised some old scraps of writing from the 90s)

No Loitering (photo)

Waking up at 3:21 am on Valentine's Day

Waking up at 3:21 am
on Valentine's Day...
"Do you hear that beeping?"
and it was
the smoke detector downstairs
chirping out its
low battery alarm,
so we took out
its battery
and I was making jokes
about my bitterness,
about missing sleep,
which made you laugh
and when we got back in bed
you kept giggling
and accidentally bumping me
with the hot water bottle
and making me twitch a little
while we were trying to sleep
and I was like,
"Oh, so my misfortune
and bitterness is funny
to you?"
which made you laugh even more
and then the loud heater
came on
and it seemed more and more
like we'd lose the battle for sleep,
like a sitcom
where everything keeps going wrong
and it's funny from the outside,
so I said,
"Happy Valentine's Day!"
and we laughed.

I wanted to end this poem
with something like
"And there was no one else
I'd rather have been with,
or hear giggling about my bitterness
in the middle of the night,"
because that is really true,
even though those words
are a little cliche
and I thought about
other ways to say it
or imply it
but nothing better
occurred to me,
so I decided
that maybe the best way
sometimes
is just to ramble on
and say I love you a lot,
and be a little cliche
anyway,
be a little imperfect,
a little flawed,
just like
that night
which was so wonderful
anyway.


-Jim DuBois
Feb 16, 2016