Richibi’s Weblog

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Category: poems to my boyfriend

to my boyfriend in Mexico

"Window with Doves" - Gino Severini

Window with Doves (c.1931)

Gino Severini


I thought I’d watch a movie but these
songs of tortured love took over and
I can’t stop

here’s a song that defines my
Guadalajara trip, when Carlos, I think,
waiting for me in my hotel room,
sitting on the bed under a springtime
painting on the wall above it, asked,
may I kiss you, outside the
bougainvillea were blooming as they
do there in spring, I said yes

later on I found out about chicken
mole, a wonderful Spanish dish

everywhere then the song had
invaded the city, Nana Mouskouri
was singing it

Julio Iglesias seems to have made
sure of that



my Valentine

"A Bouquet of Roses" (1879) - Pierre-Auguste Renoir

A Bouquet of Roses” (1879)

Pierre-Auguste Renoir


happy Valentine’s Day, Apollo said
over the phone at about ten this morning

hi, I said, can I call you back

I’ll call you back later, he answered

roger, we agreed, out

later he called to say it again, I found it
amusing, verging on charming, but later
still when we met serendipitously on the
street, where he’d sensed it would
imminently happen, though it hardly ever
does, he appeared bathed in golden light,
crossing the street towards me beaming,
very, indeed, Apollo, cutting a path
through the traffic and throng

I, of course, melted as I usually do, but
managed to hold onto my bags

happy Valentine’s Day again, he said,
I’d’ve bought you a rose, he suggested,
but they’re in bunches today, fifteen
dollars, that seemed excessive

where would I put them anyway, I

we talked about a sign up saying, help,
I’ve fallen for you and I can’t get up, I’d
seen at the market, which, along with
the crush of roses and people on the
streets, had been enlivening, inspiring,

you could say it back, he said

you haven’t said it in seventeen years,
I retorted, I tried it back then several
times but it never seemed to work, I
gave up

I knew you’d say that, he contritely
replied, playing sheepishly along

okay, I said, happy Valentine

and I love you

I love you too, he replied

we embraced

the trees were sporting cherry

birds, I think, sang


a merely theoretical dilemma, a poem

Albrecht Dûrer - "Apollo and Diana(" (1502)

Apollo and Diana (1502)

Albrecht Dürer


in the tradition of Elizabeth Barrett Browning,
a forthright, personal poem

a merely theoretical dilemma

yesterday, I had lunch with Vickie,
she said she admired our relationship,
despite the fact, which I’d interjected,
that there was no sex

she didn’t find that unacceptable

I found her concern more personal,
revealing, than strictly theoretical

then gave up the improbable

I dream, however, ever, Apollo, and
irrepressibly, of your genitals,
knowing that your spawn would
transform me, ineradicably, into
a constellation, its crystallization
our progeny, into immortal stars

but that would mean leaving you,
Apollo, behind

could I, would I, do that