Army of One
She and her war-torn undergirl
wriggled restless-
intrepid, the way
'round the battlefield.
In the flushing aftertide,
sizzle, said the grass before the gloam.
In her feet, she stood
her calico feet
on her argyle legs
with a straight-brimmed hand
to shade the slipping sun.
But the way was fraught with battle scars
itching for an arm.
She swizzled her stirring stick
with sweaty fingers,
antsy hands.
The scourge of sweet baby skins
be damned.
With her stomping boots and stick
skull-n-crossbones shells and shot
a lone patrol, she marches on.
The Hills of Hymenoptera
shall burn this night.
______________________________________________________________
Round The Pond
There is a pond
between two trees
behind a house
along a road
made of dirt
and quinine sweetened
poppy legs
"is there bread?"
a farthing said
"to feed the head
of twinkling dead?"
Though closer still
the throats of
legends sing the days
when every man
bears a name
upon his chest
finders hide
keepers lost
shine, the girls
toe and twirl
ring the name
string the trees
'round poppy's pond
roll knotty road
with sloppy shrieks
to see their names
upon the chests
of him who kissed
the crumbled bread
sundown, tumble, bow the head
crown of clouds
skies of grey curls
hide the eyes
of the girl
pink dress of skin
she waits for him
her legend deus
singult, singult
nolite timere
I am here.
______________________________________________________________
EulogyFly away
sweet Gracie May
From stages slick
for grind ballet
From filthy hands
pretend to pray
Lovely hips
bound soul buffet
Your sparkle void
disgraced Monet
to dance with angels
fly away
______________________________________________________________
River
She is a river in an undying hand
She is a river in an undying hand
a diamond riddle flowing in the shape of time
through a loupe of fertile faces
powered by the grains
falling down to sway a fouler heart.
The hand of lady justice calls
her sodden song
sets right the scales
for the head that ever weeps below
and the tails that never reach the sky.
falling down to sway a fouler heart.
The hand of lady justice calls
her sodden song
sets right the scales
for the head that ever weeps below
and the tails that never reach the sky.
Her current feeds on shelter winds unbound with laughter and 14-karat secrets.
Her sediment hides the sadder dreams, silt for losing,
thorns for the crying times.
The day comes once when she spills into newborn trickles,
seeded by her fading tides until the bloom rushes in.
Dry beds etched with the story of Mother Rain,
the tale of Father Sand cracking bones of painted desert
darking games to bleed the shame
darking games to feed the pain
skipping rocks for kissing sweeter
on and on she flows
shaping time
time again
birthing eyes to grace the lips
sway the heart
on tipping scales
weep and reach
laugh to cry for the fading child
tides shall fall
wither to bloom
and again
rushing in.
darking games to feed the pain
skipping rocks for kissing sweeter
on and on she flows
shaping time
time again
birthing eyes to grace the lips
sway the heart
on tipping scales
weep and reach
laugh to cry for the fading child
tides shall fall
wither to bloom
and again
rushing in.
______________________________________________________________
Where You Are
It is how I fell
It is how I fell
in love with a one-room flat
seven thousand miles away
jutting from a mountainside
toes on the dirt path
to my front door.
It is how I roamed a fool
through an old city
where people were strange,
oh yes, I the stranger.
Letters and words
so big for my little mouth.
It is how I stuck,
a girl-tipped pin on a map,
foreign droplet
in curls of ocean
east, west, and south.
Fenced by the enemy
twelve kilometers
to the north.
It is how love lingers
in a contrary little place
old and beaten by history
tramontane bayonets
waiting on shoulders of fear
for some ancient retribution.
It is how a soul stretches
across delicacies and rhyme
along the cracks of dictum
yet the heart is never reaching
for a chest too far to fill.
It is how my feet remember,
when the way gnarls round and back again,
that home is never
a place you are not,
but is always
the place where you are.
______________________________________________________________
Mother Tongue
All we are
All we are
essence to force
master, child
blessed name
Together.
Voices ring shyly
enlightening hearts
aching
dirty-mouth promises
Love.
Spitting disdain
madness on lips
stompers, saluters
warlord berserkers
fealty without self
Destroy.
______________________________________________________________
Unwanted
Open your hand
It is thereOpen your hand
The scion flame
remembrancer’s eye
memento vita
the fire of magic past-
a gift meant only for you.
Within is scrawled the dreamwalker’s prayer,
a story in the shadow of time.
That path now lay fallow-
lone in a winter of deeper tides,
waiting for your feet to find.
Your hair, parted in a wasteland,
feels the shame of a weakened hand.
Mudslung and maligned,
days fall dark.
Yet with each autumn passing,
a braver boy shines,
touched by the au fait hand of gold
waving you by,
waving you through.
Carry on, sheikh marigold maker,
Brought to court
by the sweetness of
outcast angels.
May your treehouse stand strong
in the face of undoing.
May your light glow hot,
raining love on men at war.
Oh, kindled star
Carry on.
______________________________________________________________
Elver Royale- Le Fable
The Prince of Eels grew lungs,
The Prince of Eels grew lungs,
slithered out under the sun.
His kingdom of dirt christened
Charnel-on-Moor.
Upon all he surveyed
lied strewn legless bones of eelfare.
For eels should never grow lungs
______________________________________________________________
Proletariat
Shall I become a vapid lay?
Shall I become a vapid lay?
Like she, all the shes, mommas, prickly and bright.
The shes standing in line with their wine and lip
shine.
The mommas with their soccer balls,
mating calls,
chasing
grades and smalls and babydolls.
Shall I feather a wisp of hair
ever sweet across a cheek
and answer my door mid-chore
as the lovely, languid lady of the house?
My man be damned
belly filler, bacon slayer
bringin’ the meat with angry feet,
tight-lipped, teeth
chipped
and his hair a little grayer.
Momma taught us how to suck and walk
grace under buttons, shaming gluttons
of the modern deuce unit.
Skinny minds trapped in a belt of jesus felt-
Babies, babies, pay and die.
Worky, worky, smile and lie.
Shall I wink for him, shy and prim?
Laughing grim in a circle of wifely dim?
Sigh, man.
The man.
Dan and Sharon birthing Sam
Dan and Sharon birthing Sam
A normal stacked with blanks to fill
slapping pork chops on a grill.
slapping pork chops on a grill.
No hell way.
Not a chance.
Time stands still for no man
and stiller still for his little woe-man.
I’ll dance without pants
scream and steal a slim chance
to live the way I want to die-
with a grin, full of sin
through the cataract of godly men
who peel away the haze of try
with a fingerthrough the cataract of godly men
who peel away the haze of try
in her wicked eye.
______________________________________________________________
Monkey Sea
Little, little
stringless fiddle
teach my friendless funk to fly.
Curve my bow
whisper low
gimme crazy bells to try.
Crashy, clashy
trailer trashy
wontchoo lemme lick your ears?
Splatter muck
all in my truck
kick the gauntlet tossed with tears.
Whistle, whistle
gnaw your gristle
tell me, magic man, to speak.
Whip me lightly
fuck me nightly
punch me, rape me, call me freak.
________________________________________________________________________________
Once and Future Daughter
He is my sunshine.
sleeping
tiny heart with mine.
Shakes my happy
surfing
fearless skies of gray.
Yet to show
how much I love him,
To her, I give
my son’s shine away.
________________________________________________________________________________
Story Beneath
A mother cries for her child
without sanctum.
She cries for herself,
betrayed from birth,
Oneness with her kind broken.
Yet, a foreign heart
offers honor with grace
a gift, pure as life.
________________________________________________________________________________
Slut Snore Metaphor
Sleep-
a two-dollar whore looking
for her next fix.
She crawls in bed with me
wriggles herself between my ears
mumbles in her hardnock
voice
singing her own praise for her many
talents-
her 50-cent blowjobs
and buck-fifty quickies against the
brick wall
just outside the back door of the
pool bar on her corner.
She settles on my ear lobes
tries to shove my hand into her
panties-
a freebie with the promise of a dreammaker space opera.
a freebie with the promise of a dreammaker space opera.
Sleep.
Hell no, she ain’t a tease.
She ain’t got nothing I want.
A bleached rainbow and sandpaper
tigers
won’t even scrub her off.
A gift that grows a nightmare
A song-scraping chalkboard
digging her hardknock finger
in that spot behind my ear.
“Sleep, little funky angel.
Sleep, if you can,
while I hump your angel wings
like a bitch in heat.
Sleep, if you can,
little buttercup devil,
while I shove my sugar
in your buttercup nose.”
I give up.
The sleep slut wins.
I sleep not.
________________________________________________________________________________
Ischemia
It wasn’t the first time
yet the elephant, as ruthless.
Flutterby dysrhythmia mocked sweet sinus quo.
Shatterfall, song of glass -
An arm wrenched within morbidity's precious quagmire
“Say, oh God absolute-
Say she knows I love her.”
________________________________________________________________________________
Excuses
Hers.
Aye, truly jack-be-nimble to decay-
to puddle round her feet, bare but for the dirt between her
toes-
to muddle counted breaths, sibilant song sublime-
One fire, two fire, three fire-
Free.
________________________________________________________________________________
Audience
Watchers, all-
mouths loose as she balances on two.
Tongues wet and ready to burn-
secrets, lies, and shame
- the story they tell so real
from the nose-bleeders' eye.
Onlookers, they call themselves-
caricature of Darwin
poised upon stretched necks.
To toss a rose in her direction,
a travesty upon gilded lips.
She knows-
sweet child of acrimony,
for she has always known.
Eyes break rank to bathe her-
jaws unhinged by Mother Mordant
itch to spew folly for folly's grim sake.
She gathers en masse
her bones, curls, and tulle
upon candles without flame
to rise for another pirouette.
________________________________________________________________________________
Macho
He cannot give nor promise heaven-
no corduroy ponies gray or sliver of salt diVine;
Yet they want, as they will and always.
Will? My dreamer- oh, they will.
Will? My dreamer- oh, they will.
He watches as they slow,
Resting as they do on the lip of a thirty-second note.
breathe- breathe over- and Flow.
Little tease, picking bitty tufts of cotton bone
Resting as they do on the lip of a thirty-second note.
breathe- breathe over- and Flow.
Little tease, picking bitty tufts of cotton bone
in a thought unwound from a thimble/ Locked
then glows the inscape from their teetiny bodies-
brilliant won'dring wild as the wicked are wont to do.
Fishin' low-
low, low, under...t-t-t-Toe.
then glows the inscape from their teetiny bodies-
brilliant won'dring wild as the wicked are wont to do.
Fishin' low-
low, low, under...t-t-t-Toe.
With a wink and a laugh, give ‘em hell poppa.
reach Up with dreams of shiv'ry games.
Calm- shining liberty singing sweet, and sweeter calm.
pulled from the best branch, Sky running-
dot, dot, Dot- smile-slung ranger- sky watching.
Wake on a thread spun gritty with juice-
on the Shredded bed of a giant.
Holding, as he Does,
with swollen wanderLust
in dithering, dangling, dirty daddy Hands.
then he Looks, noggins spry-
then the Chase, beggars run
with flying flips and funk from Thataway.
pulled from the best branch, Sky running-
dot, dot, Dot- smile-slung ranger- sky watching.
Wake on a thread spun gritty with juice-
on the Shredded bed of a giant.
Holding, as he Does,
with swollen wanderLust
in dithering, dangling, dirty daddy Hands.
then he Looks, noggins spry-
then the Chase, beggars run
with flying flips and funk from Thataway.
yet whether be Hither
or whether be Yon,
his arms- daddy Please!-
dem Arms won't never let go.
or whether be Yon,
his arms- daddy Please!-
dem Arms won't never let go.
________________________________________________________________________________
Chance
Transparency is ambrosial
when it is given along the string
tied
from your heart
tied
from your heart
to another.
Clarity is morning rain,
lingers on grass,
a droplet for every soul
that dares dance unclad.
There happens then
a lightening of each living trouble.
These or those weighing down a closed heart
lay no burden
on the shoulders of clarion beasties.
Yet we fear it,
for crystal breaks
as a raindrop turned to ice.
Crack, it may.
Shatter, it can.
Yet the smell of a buried self reeks,
necrotic beneath the mold of neverever.
Never to show.
Never to give.
Never to share underling fancies
in a gentle palm
outstretched
to share with you.
Quiescence lives
in the seeing and showing
In the times,
and on the roads,
when fear sneaks a toehold.
Stop.
Yield an echo
Stop.
Yield an echo
before the one who holds your key.
Abandon your fortress.
Swallow a pint
of sweet cinnamon pretense.
of sweet cinnamon pretense.
Let them pass
Let them see.
________________________________________________________________________________
Scar
A mother espies her unclothed reflection,
naked flesh-covering marred.
Eyes trace her outline,
drifting through untouchable time.
Flexed and firm,
now undone-
muscle given to softness.
Finger draws her scar,
she remembers.
________________________________________________________________________________
No Distance
Her legs give her purpose.
When else fails to feed her, legs assuage the hunger.
for movement – for fury – for fire.
She stretches them.
With the tiniest magic that lives
in the pit of her wit,
she tries to draw them long-
Pull them from the hips that hold them,
Peel them from the joints
threatening a revolution.
No and never
Never long.
They hurt.
Today and always.
One on foot, the other afloat
They know the steps-
the way out and back
where the money hides,
trees bent toward singularity.
The gray sliding into home on the safe side.
Tendons thrum a bone drum,
tap a rimshot-
crash and thrash and metaphlash
on a crass brass symbol.
Spitting life between cheek and gums.
The chaser won’t chase.
She’d stop. If he
would. She’d stop.
Turn, let him chase.
Laugh as he sweeps her legs from under
let them rest
Weight balanced in a dust bowl shiver.
They
hurt.
Today
and always.
Revolution staggers
as a side-down-up fool
asleep in the bottom of the bottle.
Chase me, hook me, reel me, net me.
Let me soak in your ice water pond.
Butter me, toast me, roast and eat me.
I hear I go best with tempura toes.
Step up, neither fore nor hind.
Just stay, heel to heel
Jump the falls
the caverns and grottos
expanse of time
93 million miles
from Mother to Sol.
No distance these legs won’t run
They
hurt.
Today
and always.
No distance these legs won’t run.
________________________________________________________________________________
Dead Man's Float
Preservation.
Idle saccharine survival.
'Let down your hair, lovely princess.
I shall save you.'
Drift and breathe,
precious flotsam treasure in the surf.
Under the aegis of languor and lies,
'pine for me, waiting girl.'
You are called for naught but sweetness,
loved for naught but lips,
bred for naught but lady feet,
held for naught but a shimmering dress.
Your knight,
his devil's coat shines,
looks valiant along the horizon
for his woman atoll
to catch the sun,
a beacon beggar
on a feather sail
whisper
for rigor mortis rescue.
________________________________________________________________________________ You, Soft and Only
Dear Elise-
your fire eyes caught him
taught him how to dream
of castles clutching sand
of make-believe hearts
and worlds where your blue eyes
mattered.
Dear Spiderman-
your furry holes made him
shivering, precious, hungry boy
hiding in the parlour.
Creeping softer, quicker in the gathering gloom.
Oh, your candystripe legs
with your tongue in his eyes,
I know your dinner is the suddenly flies.
Dear Dead Man on the Beach-
sea and self at the end of a gun.
Staring at the dead.
Staring alive.
Kill the stranger,
his eyes smooth in your hand.
Kill the Arab
or absolutely nothing
and walk away.
Dear Cagey Tigers-
such a wonderfully treacherous scream.
You hissing, groovy lovecats, you.
You sleek and biting lovecats, you.
Broken mice
and hated pieces
growing wider and brighter
with cream in your tea
and on me.
Dear You-
my pictures are real.
The kiss in the rain
running soft with drowning angels.
In the dark, we were lost
in the make-believe sky.
As it fell, you broke apart.
The right words, so close.
And the fear, like pictures of me,
was real.
Dear boys-
you take it for granted.
Tell me you love me.
Hide the tears in a laughing lie.
Plead and judge me.
Cover and beg me.
But boys
Do
Cry.
________________________________________________________________________________
words in a fist
fingers curled, clenched
one bound to the next
pearls of thought strung
for the only one.
To soften
To breathe them
know them
and catch them
Before they fall around.
turn of phrase
safe in a veil of night
easing the thunder of an angel between
rolling on a jazz pulse,
alighting for the only one.
To hold
To save them
unveil them
and sing them
Before they fade away.
________________________________________________________________________________
Timekeeper Grandpa’s clock
is stuck at 9:02.
Such a brave little thing
to stand against dawn.
Hands sure,
copper fingers brushing
the tip of dusk.
The will of time a whistle-
a song it will not sing.
An arcane verse wrapped upon a gear
is the story of 9:01.
Perchance it fancied love
in a farthingale,
waiting with her parasol,
ever biding hours
counting down to 9:03.
Yet the sundial turns its nose;
The hourglass, its
head;
The metronome perpetuates
and bristles at the thought.
Just a withered piece of time-
springs and pulleys
punched their timecards ages gone.
A grayed and hoary chap-
playing bridge each Sunday morning
on the porch with pendulum-
war tales be the currency of the day.
Grandpa’s clock
perhaps not stuck,
but waiting, turned to stone.
Its legend set upon a nail
standing watch for a noble key
to set it lithe on a dragon’s back
to rage through frost and fog.
To turn its heart
entwined with breath,
and a kiss to break the spell.
________________________________________________________________________________
will-o'-the-wisp
He sat in the rain
on a many-ringed stump.
I watched as he wrote his name.
His finger pen dripped
with ink from his brow,
making valleys
cross, dotting, rays.
“Call me this,” he asked.
Then I saw what he wrote.
His name, in the rain, was the same.
He was sitting on a park bench,
reading a newspaper found
in the trash where he looked
for the gold broken men cast away.
His finger pen circled
a pale yellow shine
and he smiled
warm, slight, brushed aglow.
“Listen here,” he said.
So I gave him my ear.
His eyes, as he read, closed instead.
He flies for a time
in and out of my sight,
whether dreamwalking days
or at night.
His finger pen traces
a secret locked tight
and he whispers
golden, inked, pretty words
“Don’t forget,” he told.
I knew then he would stay
On the stump, in my eyes, at sunrise
_______________________________________________________________________________
Head Closet
Rise inside
Lift the head she chose today
Replace her baubles and shine
Screw it down
Snap is tight
Smile for the camera,
my little glass angel.
Cover your shame
Your cogwheels and gears.
Touch him slow
Soft voice, easy eyes
Keep your sparklers unlit
Today’s head carries vague whisps
Of her god in the box
_______________________________________________________________________________
Karoshi
To the wayworn,
Be still.
It creeps up on you and into your bones.
Settles heavy on your skin.
The force of gravity increases tenfold,
and the weight of some alien world begs for your affection.
Ruminations become corporeal,
crow's feet tiptoe naughty in the dark.
The house falls silent, the plush beneath you soft,
yet your cognizance rests on lost intentions,
lest your memory march to meet the light of sworn fealty.
You vowed and forgot.
Promises broken.
Wished but locked it away.
In the hour before tomorrow,
drink.
Let it wash the wrong down smooth.
And again, with hands to heart,
eyes resting in the wake of an encore
pound your fence posts deep,
plant your Sharon rose to hide the anthills seething
know your light will bring the day
over and over
again.
Be still.
It creeps up on you and into your bones.
Settles heavy on your skin.
The force of gravity increases tenfold,
and the weight of some alien world begs for your affection.
Ruminations become corporeal,
crow's feet tiptoe naughty in the dark.
The house falls silent, the plush beneath you soft,
yet your cognizance rests on lost intentions,
lest your memory march to meet the light of sworn fealty.
You vowed and forgot.
Promises broken.
Wished but locked it away.
In the hour before tomorrow,
drink.
Let it wash the wrong down smooth.
And again, with hands to heart,
eyes resting in the wake of an encore
pound your fence posts deep,
plant your Sharon rose to hide the anthills seething
know your light will bring the day
over and over
again.
_______________________________________________________________________________
The Writer's Lush All-Nighter
The Writer's Lush All-Nighter
It was a dark and stormy night.
Wind, a dying shell of a man,
held bitter behind the prose.
New moon, shadow smile,
down, down, down among the lot.
Noise, a luxe alluvium
fell from dusk-dwelling, secret things.
There was monkeyshine afoot,
Leaping thumb to thumb.
A rapt reflection in the bones
of my pretzel-bending treacle-
candy melting down my chin
with a slow-sipping flute of rhine.
I laughed to spite the spiters,
Dancing sine-to-qua-to-non,
when a notion popped my cherry knot
and time then spoke for me.
He said,
“Go, and shake the fringe.
Make a mess with cachinnations!”
I then slipped my favorite tapping shoes
Upon my tapping toes,
twirled my ouroboros palindrome
and flew to meet my maker.
Drifting lithe upon my shoulder,
I watched her as she watched me
Drifting lithe upon the shoulder
Of the me
just watching her.
Wind, a dying shell of a man,
held bitter behind the prose.
New moon, shadow smile,
down, down, down among the lot.
Noise, a luxe alluvium
fell from dusk-dwelling, secret things.
There was monkeyshine afoot,
Leaping thumb to thumb.
A rapt reflection in the bones
of my pretzel-bending treacle-
candy melting down my chin
with a slow-sipping flute of rhine.
I laughed to spite the spiters,
Dancing sine-to-qua-to-non,
when a notion popped my cherry knot
and time then spoke for me.
He said,
“Go, and shake the fringe.
Make a mess with cachinnations!”
I then slipped my favorite tapping shoes
Upon my tapping toes,
twirled my ouroboros palindrome
and flew to meet my maker.
Drifting lithe upon my shoulder,
I watched her as she watched me
Drifting lithe upon the shoulder
Of the me
just watching her.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Bondage
Bondage
Free?
You should know better.
Pretty words and poisoned veins.
Eyes hide lies, smiles hide stains.
Dancing tongues mask broken pains.
Skipping sly in tangled chains.
Free. Means nothing.
Hope. Is a fallacy.
You should know better.
Pretty words and poisoned veins.
Eyes hide lies, smiles hide stains.
Dancing tongues mask broken pains.
Skipping sly in tangled chains.
Free. Means nothing.
Hope. Is a fallacy.
_______________________________________________________________________________
To My Mother
To My Mother
A baby child, so few years,
lies hollow.
Her chest rises with each vulgar sigh
of electric breath.
Machines
sing the ersatz song of a dying heart.
The womb that held her aches
for the angel whose hair withered fingers twirl.
There fell a tear upon her head,
and a kiss upon her cheek.
Trembling arms gather their daughter
as the noise of being
slows,
then stops.
Begging hands then cup her face,
eyes burning every moment
as a tattoo upon the desperate.
Hands that once saved
now rock her body into shadow.
Lips that chased pain
now whisper love into the dark.
Arms tender
feel the soul they once carried
pass into tomorrow,
where a mother
cannot go.
lies hollow.
Her chest rises with each vulgar sigh
of electric breath.
Machines
sing the ersatz song of a dying heart.
The womb that held her aches
for the angel whose hair withered fingers twirl.
There fell a tear upon her head,
and a kiss upon her cheek.
Trembling arms gather their daughter
as the noise of being
slows,
then stops.
Begging hands then cup her face,
eyes burning every moment
as a tattoo upon the desperate.
Hands that once saved
now rock her body into shadow.
Lips that chased pain
now whisper love into the dark.
Arms tender
feel the soul they once carried
pass into tomorrow,
where a mother
cannot go.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Little Bodhi Lost
Little Bodhi Lost
indulgent, we
our brush fires, fences
seducing grace in boxes
bodies, soul trapper
daydreams, terra bound
one smile, a quantum spark
it’s far beyond hominal tears
within the great without
found, are we.
_______________________________________________________________________________
lèse-majesté
lèse-majesté
she came from the dirt
morning glory princess with weeds in her hair.
just a naked child swinging
with dandelion diamonds spitting wishes
on the air.
her fancy train of tatty thread
followed faithful muddy floor
her throne for climbing, squeal the sun
jeweled fists to storm the castle door.
she'd a vulgar tongue for noble rhymes
shooting sweet, vainglorious, tame
knotty ears would bend and shut
grinning girl, tut, tut, tut.
she wanders now the way she did
swings the gallows in the dark.
don't wait for her to fall asleep
don't make her come to tea.
the monkey queen is busy.
the monkey queen is me
_______________________________________________________________________________
Lady In Extremis
don't look my way
wonder me nightly
put me up in that swank loft
in the gritty shame between your heartbeats.
don't taste my haute grinning guile
devoured like your momma's milk
as though you'd never seen
a she-wraith dancing with fire before.
love that wretched parasite
wringing your sorcery dry.
the one jerking your leash
through puddles of gold
down the well of forgotten boys.
I'll sing on the weighty notes
in a matryoshka choir
cradling time on the inside.
Here's your bakku-shan banshee
berserker beautiful
a gift from me to you.
though the stars in her eyes grow black
and once-fair braids a gray tease
her voice of an angel
tells a slanderous tale
and scars deep
a shadowed heart. _______________________________________________________________________________
Bricks
lying on them holding
raining stars
Over his shoulder
I watched
Over his shoulder
I watched
just kids, but we knew how to kiss
and fuck.
At that age,
the scratches on your back
are worth it.
Squeal of the hinges
on the old screen door.
frantic scramble in the dark
giggles swallowed
"I'll be there in a minute, momma....
Geez......"
Alone again.
In the dark.
A slide and a scrape
pulling the threads
of my silk panties
wiggling back in my britches
little crumbles and dirt
get stuck in the even softest of places
One last tackle
sharpness pressing skin against his weight
tender skin breaks the fiercest, you know.
but at that age
It's worth it.
_______________________________________________________________________________ Still
Breathe
Know that you are here
The blood in your veins runs ardent still
just as the boy who drove her home.
Smile
She's there, the hand you hold
and your monster
is no match for her.
Listen
be still and listen, so quiet
If you’ll hear them
they will tell you of more than a man
with stories through words of mettle and might.
Eyes of your reflection shine
and voices rumble
with tales and legends of the hero
they see in you.
Calm
let the storm shy away.
With eyes closed, know
we are all pearls in an ocean of time
Time to live
with the fire of primal yen
Time to scream
madly at the Earth underfoot
Time to sigh, cool and lush
slow the tide
smell her close
with magic on your mind
and dreams in your hand.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Gray Girl
My little Gray Girl
she runs amok at times.
Never far, Never long.
Some days, a fuzzy splash,
drop, drop, blotchy flash
But others, she curves just right.
Strong, skipping lithe
twisty player on ballerina toes
humming hints on rocker bottom souls
In secret, I dream those legs are mine
Sleek
on and on
hours long
In secret, she dreams I'll set her loose
facile feet
chase rain
moor tight her lover star.
Sad Girl, Gray Lady, always stuck in my footsteps
tide locked on the deep side
round and round she go.
Fly away lovely, so much prettier than I
whip a fit, silent screamer
follow
follow
run girl, go.
She'll sing her spite, chained baby, so bitter.
Faceless taster, her smile hides flame
I keep her safe, she holds me so
Never less, never lone
My little Gray Girl
please stay.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Fragmentia
I’m not your teapot
No whistle pause, or
lacy synecdoche
in your sweet spot.
That dangling thing;
junk (modified)
on the backs; of cheap believers
in the mouths; of silly proselytes.
Why the cross-hatchling?
Why the straight and narrow?
I ain't on your chain
of glitter anaphorics
with charming cataphorics
lost exophoric trinkets,
and stolen ellipsis shine
on...on...on...
sweet liar! That license is gold-
on a hot "clasp" of trite
your binary opus falls flat.
Sleazy hyphens on the [floor]
subjugation sister
gerunds smell of pretrichor
predication mister?
Round two, solder lingers
rolling in sheets of have-to’s
Mustn’t’s; or-elsing the beastmaster dry
Oh, lovely momma ingénue!
Your feelers don’t ride my avenue.
My full stops. and critter curls,
Skip she, bow she, curtsy to play
Lock it down: Sew it tight:
round the spyglass of-
turnable phrase.
Color but (crafty) white noise
buzzer shaming proper verse-
a palindrome, inside herself
oh, dainty pen girl, can't you see?
Your way forward
is my way back.
Piquant nosh on cunt-flavored sin
where all rules melt on lines of men
The words, your prose
chew your cud; I'll wait.
Red shifter/dreamer/thief
Yes. My chaste dot apostle-
your world dies
when you shut your eyes
but mine has just (begun)
________________________________________________________________________________
Zoo Children
diagnose me, excuse me, give me a reason not to be me.
punish me for not being the child you wanted instead of being the parent i need.
label me, hide me, praise me for anything instead of expecting greatness- it creates such a martyr in you.
give me pills to depend on, since there will be no one else.
raise awareness, join in, hold signs, use me to perpetuate
your dream that it is no one's fault.
________________________________________________________________________________
Oh Child
I remember you inside me. Raising hell.
You took my body as your own.
Molded my bones to build your temple.
Stretched me, swelled me, fenced your home to spin your web.
You saw your budding toes while mine became hidden.
The darkness inside me a safe shade from the harshness outside me.
My heart beating above you, my breath fighting for space against you- all the soundtrack of your squirming little dance.
A seed of a child sown within a child- sapling to infant, girl to woman.
I grew you.
You grew me.
You took what you wanted, stole it. But I would have given it to you.
The gentle havoc you wrought left me dazed. Was this body enough for you?
You took it all, took it over, erased the child I was to color the child you’d become.
The tiny heart of you beat for every step I took as a girl, and every tear I’d cry as a woman.
I made you.
You made me.
I’ve watched you outside me. Raising hell.
The tearing, gnawing, ripping of your wicked escape healed.
My bones are stronger for you, for all the times you’ve sought my shelter.
The evidence of your presence remains- the web you stretched me to spin.
Your toes are bigger than mine.
And the harshness outside me is no match for your fierce indignation.
My heart beats in secret for every moment of freedom you steal, the open windows, the stretching- inch by inch- of the cord between us.
I hold you.
You let go.
________________________________________________________________________________
Ever So
I should have been born with my own soundtrack
theme song
signature onomatopoeias as I step
Because the Earth moves ever so each time you breathe
times every other bone cage
We will all breathe and the Earth will move ever so.
We will all breathe and the Earth will move ever so.
We breathe, we walk, we pick things up off the shelf to inspect its quality, necessity, desirability.
Must it find a place in our home? On a table? On a shelf?
No, put it down. Walk away.
We are walking, we play, we drive our cars, we stomp and dance, and run.
We are walking, we play, we drive our cars, we stomp and dance, and run.
Imagine all the ever-so’s,
ever so, ever so, little by little, tremble again, scream "we are here. we are here."
Feel us inside you moving like electrons, protons, neutrons
move move move.
Earth moves ever so.
We love, we fight, we strut with importance,
We love, we fight, we strut with importance,
faux confidence of being
to our next appointment.
Earth moves ever so.
We stuff it all under the bed at times for release of inhibition.
We stuff it all under the bed at times for release of inhibition.
Find that release. The one who catches your eye in the moment.
Release me and I will release into you.
Touch me and I will feel you.
Want me and I will need you.
Fantasize and pull me in.
I will stay long, leave fast, rouse deep, hit hard.
End nothing. Start something.
I will play your hand, save my hand until I pay.
I will play your hand, save my hand until I pay.
Our Earth moves ever so.
Shine on when the lights go out.
Shine on when the lights go out.
Read on when the words disappear.
Move on when the crowd forgets.
Hold on when our hands are wet.
Breathe on when you only have the smell of her body to remember.
Ever so, we move.
Wake of energy when eyes meet.
Vibe on. And Earth moves ever so.
________________________________________________________________________________
Dichotomy
heart aches for reasons
she wants to forget
cognizance fogs
with forgotten ills
requiem written
a hymn for the broken
indian giver
disbeliever
smooth pursuit
with fingers in his hair
she knows
she's a taker
a sore acher
rule breaker
She knows
her full quiver
lines his spine
a ladder to climb
whispered sorries
as lips brush
his wounded ears
words on paper
feel different
than words
on your heart
she wants to forget
cognizance fogs
with forgotten ills
requiem written
a hymn for the broken
indian giver
disbeliever
smooth pursuit
with fingers in his hair
she knows
she's a taker
a sore acher
rule breaker
She knows
her full quiver
lines his spine
a ladder to climb
whispered sorries
as lips brush
his wounded ears
words on paper
feel different
than words
on your heart
________________________________________________________________________________
Folie A Deux
Stroke her easy
bonny baby
on your tongue she steps by two
chasing sprats, those little crumbles
Pretty people shaped like you
Ante zed, you fine machine
I'll see and raise you hot
token prancer
riddle dancer
She was all
and you were not.
________________________________________________________________________________
Hot Cognition
Oh, trouble, trouble
This fizzy little thing.
It ain’t me!
Says the book in the box.
Instinct-
or mother may I?
Says the book in the box.
Momma gone try.
She gone try to be smooth in her way.
Smooth and cool
‘bout as queer as a chandelier
when that engine gets crunk.
I know the way
that drops the fool on his knees
that flips him side-down-up.
Racing the chalk lines,
chasing the kickers and pickers
til their bellies go pop.
Ain’t no time!
Never no time for the mindgears’ roll
Damn the repose
of the cold clunkin' thinker.
No shy, no sigh, all spades in my deck.
It ain’t me
Says the book in the box.
It ain’t me!
It ain’t me!
Says the book in the box.
Instinct-
or mother may I?
Says the book in the box.
Momma gone try.
She gone try to be smooth in her way.
Smooth and cool
‘bout as queer as a chandelier
when that engine gets crunk.
I know the way
that drops the fool on his knees
that flips him side-down-up.
Racing the chalk lines,
chasing the kickers and pickers
til their bellies go pop.
Ain’t no time!
Never no time for the mindgears’ roll
Damn the repose
of the cold clunkin' thinker.
No shy, no sigh, all spades in my deck.
It ain’t me
Says the book in the box.
It ain’t me!
________________________________________________________________________________
TonightShe lies awake.
Midnight.
On her back, the way she does.
His breath on her arm.
slow rhythm.
Her hands are clasped on her chest.
She can feel her nipples under her thumbs,
and she circles them when no one is watching.
One leg is tucked under the blankets
the other is naked and uncovered,
the way she does.
Dr. Lecter whispers about livers and fava beans.
She adjusts her glasses with the tip of a finger.
She secretly likes her glasses,
but outwardly teases herself
so that no one knows.
She hears his breath, inhale, exhale.
He smells sweet, his natural smell.
It has always turned her on- his smell,
ever since she was a girl.
She lays her head on his chest and breathes,
memorizes his every inch all over again.
Hearing his heart, feeling his lungs.
His fingers following her lines, back and forth,
back and forth.
back and forth.
She can curl just right
and fit her whole self, tip to toe, in the curve of his arm,
A tiny pleasure of being tiny.
He follows her lines
Just a finger
Shoulder, waist, hip, thigh, calf, toe,
and up again.
His breathing slows.
She adjusts her glasses once more,
blowing a wisp of hair from her face.
His finger comes to rest on her hip.
She marvels at Clarice running in heels,
at any woman who can run in heels.
She feels the weight of his body relax,
Inhale
Exhale.
Little Clarice runs to jump into her daddy’s arms.
Commercial.
She scoots ever so lightly to the edge of the bed,
one toe, and another, so gently to the floor,
and runs,
in her purple lace panties
and her T-shirt about hobbits,
To find her words
And the place where she hides them.
________________________________________________________________________________
res ipsa loquitur
res ipsa loquitur
scrying scream drowned out
The Eagle stomps three-fourths time
Pillars rise, she flies.
The Eagle stomps three-fourths time
Pillars rise, she flies.
________________________________________________________________________________
iRhetoric
She sees you there
Peeking
inside her window
Sneaking
just under her sill
Safe
outside her glass.
Do you see what you hoped?
Siouxsie Sorrow
Counting her years
In the anguish of each creak
Of her rocking chair?
Have you found your lost arrow?
Shot sure
through the eroteme formed
By the trail
of the tear on her cheek?
Do you hear the cries you imagine?
The wailing astral maiden
cast out
From her orbit
round her stellar love?
You should know
Her heart hides low
Buried deep
In its fortress around.
You should feel
Her gossamer veil
fall away
Remade
in stratus gray
Unwanted
Unwelcome
Unheard.
You should hear
The deepening
Far-shadowed laughter
Rumbling dare
To scale
Her wall of chance
To swim
Her sea of iniquity
To leap
Her leagues of blame
You should take
These words
Her gift to you
An acid-etched whisper
Heme stained
From her bitten mouth
Roll them hard
Mold them thus
Turn them sharp
Keep them close.
Perhaps a pocket?
For she now knows yours
Hold little else.
________________________________________________________________________________Peeking
inside her window
Sneaking
just under her sill
Safe
outside her glass.
Do you see what you hoped?
Siouxsie Sorrow
Counting her years
In the anguish of each creak
Of her rocking chair?
Have you found your lost arrow?
Shot sure
through the eroteme formed
By the trail
of the tear on her cheek?
Do you hear the cries you imagine?
The wailing astral maiden
cast out
From her orbit
round her stellar love?
You should know
Her heart hides low
Buried deep
In its fortress around.
You should feel
Her gossamer veil
fall away
Remade
in stratus gray
Unwanted
Unwelcome
Unheard.
You should hear
The deepening
Far-shadowed laughter
Rumbling dare
To scale
Her wall of chance
To swim
Her sea of iniquity
To leap
Her leagues of blame
You should take
These words
Her gift to you
An acid-etched whisper
Heme stained
From her bitten mouth
Roll them hard
Mold them thus
Turn them sharp
Keep them close.
Perhaps a pocket?
For she now knows yours
Hold little else.
Bane and Thievery
She knows every name.
She remembers.
All of them.
Every individual soul who has ever said it.
On even days, she sighs with a bit of pity,
Thinking,
Oh, how I have fooled them. Fooled them all.
On odd days, she blinks twice and smiles,
Thinking,
Yes, I know.
Then there are days
Neither even nor odd
The slipped days, the hidden ones
The days the mirror reflects
When she is sure its definition has its very own M.O.
Threatening some underhanded ploy
When the ones who matter most
Light that candle
And walk away.
Reflections then turn navy blue
Trace the lines but tell no truth
Balance on a pinhead of honeyed words
False flavor but a dead-end road.
Turn and pose.
Wrinkled nose.
The clock screams ten.
Over again.
That girl won’t move
Until you do.
She knows every name.
She remembers.
All of them.
Every individual soul who has ever said it.
On even days, she sighs with a bit of pity,
Thinking,
Oh, how I have fooled them. Fooled them all.
On odd days, she blinks twice and smiles,
Thinking,
Yes, I know.
Then there are days
Neither even nor odd
The slipped days, the hidden ones
The days the mirror reflects
When she is sure its definition has its very own M.O.
Threatening some underhanded ploy
When the ones who matter most
Light that candle
And walk away.
Reflections then turn navy blue
Trace the lines but tell no truth
Balance on a pinhead of honeyed words
False flavor but a dead-end road.
Turn and pose.
Wrinkled nose.
The clock screams ten.
Over again.
That girl won’t move
Until you do.
________________________________________________________________________________
Onlooker
It’s about the burn
Fire on skin to bone
Scorching tracts and tunnels
Seared to black the signs that show.
The ways.
The paths.
The turnabouts.
Trails of ember glow
Headlong/reckless/feckless
Lose yourself below.
It’s about the chase
Flight on rockered feet
Steam shine scream the trees
Motored motives row
The claws
The toes
The muscles shriek
Coffered whistles low
Landscape/airscape/seascape
Lose yourself in the show.
It’s about the self
Truth dressed in liar’s rags
Fold the night in blooms and seed
Water wails for a she to sow
To nurse
To sing
Her mother love
Blister garden grow
Naked/flailed/exhaled
Lose yourself, let go.
Fire on skin to bone
Scorching tracts and tunnels
Seared to black the signs that show.
The ways.
The paths.
The turnabouts.
Trails of ember glow
Headlong/reckless/feckless
Lose yourself below.
It’s about the chase
Flight on rockered feet
Steam shine scream the trees
Motored motives row
The claws
The toes
The muscles shriek
Coffered whistles low
Landscape/airscape/seascape
Lose yourself in the show.
It’s about the self
Truth dressed in liar’s rags
Fold the night in blooms and seed
Water wails for a she to sow
To nurse
To sing
Her mother love
Blister garden grow
Naked/flailed/exhaled
Lose yourself, let go.
________________________________________________________________________________
To Him
To me
your eyes
shine on
Pale waters
roll on
Beacons
flashing whispers
in the dark.
Their words
teased once
promise now.
Chasing demons
with a glance
Kindling life
when my fire dies.
To me
your arms
fight on.
Stronger than fear
sail on
soft as cry
of new life held.
Their sway
vanquished beasts
envy none
and trade their sword
to calm the fire
of me.
To me
your heart
holds on
Quiet song
beats on
pounding rhythm
felt beneath
my hand.
Its weight
carries me
over storms
faith alights
through raging sky
its life
raining down
over me.
To me
you are
the longest love
every love
every smile
every moment
every treasure.
My soul, in flame and shadow
who lifted me
and caught me
part of me
saving all of me.
Love defined
screamed and whispered
shared and stolen.
I write it all
for you.
To me
your eyes
shine on
Pale waters
roll on
Beacons
flashing whispers
in the dark.
Their words
teased once
promise now.
Chasing demons
with a glance
Kindling life
when my fire dies.
To me
your arms
fight on.
Stronger than fear
sail on
soft as cry
of new life held.
Their sway
vanquished beasts
envy none
and trade their sword
to calm the fire
of me.
To me
your heart
holds on
Quiet song
beats on
pounding rhythm
felt beneath
my hand.
Its weight
carries me
over storms
faith alights
through raging sky
its life
raining down
over me.
To me
you are
the longest love
every love
every smile
every moment
every treasure.
My soul, in flame and shadow
who lifted me
and caught me
part of me
saving all of me.
Love defined
screamed and whispered
shared and stolen.
I write it all
for you.
________________________________________________________________________________
Fallen Peaches
Her knees got boo-boos
Skints and scabs and knots
Devil child with baby cheeks
Barrettes hung loose
The ones momma made
With ribbons
Tangled and wild
Tears and No More Tears
Only a girl would know
Running and rolling
Dirt in her lashes
Bruises and scars
for every race won
And every grip lost
Tire swing zen
But the rope was what she eyed
Shoeless feet find friction
Tiny fingers lose it
Crawdads in the creek
Wild blackberries
In the fold of her shirt
Fences for jumping
Basements for hiding
Musty and dank
Until the mouse came
The one momma killed
It cried and screamed
for so long.
Camel crickets
Rolly pollies
Granddaddy longlegs
She kept them all
Ate a couple.
When no one saw
Lightning bugs and frogs
At gramma’s lake
The peach tree
Pawpaw helped her reach
And his glass of water
That never was
But pawpaw died
His eyes were closed
On that day.
The blackberries
Soured and old.
Fading bruises unreplaced
Healing skints forgotten
Dead frog in a purple purse
Fallen peaches rotten
Vague times
Vagabond minutes
Begging for hate
that never comes
The many ones
Pocket deep
Steal just enough shine
From each rising sun
Memories lost
Worth forgets
Grace stumbles
Faith stolen
Dawn grays
Eyes close.
Skints and scabs and knots
Devil child with baby cheeks
Barrettes hung loose
The ones momma made
With ribbons
Tangled and wild
Tears and No More Tears
Only a girl would know
Running and rolling
Dirt in her lashes
Bruises and scars
for every race won
And every grip lost
Tire swing zen
But the rope was what she eyed
Shoeless feet find friction
Tiny fingers lose it
Crawdads in the creek
Wild blackberries
In the fold of her shirt
Fences for jumping
Basements for hiding
Musty and dank
Until the mouse came
The one momma killed
It cried and screamed
for so long.
Camel crickets
Rolly pollies
Granddaddy longlegs
She kept them all
Ate a couple.
When no one saw
Lightning bugs and frogs
At gramma’s lake
The peach tree
Pawpaw helped her reach
And his glass of water
That never was
But pawpaw died
His eyes were closed
On that day.
The blackberries
Soured and old.
Fading bruises unreplaced
Healing skints forgotten
Dead frog in a purple purse
Fallen peaches rotten
Vague times
Vagabond minutes
Begging for hate
that never comes
The many ones
Pocket deep
Steal just enough shine
From each rising sun
Memories lost
Worth forgets
Grace stumbles
Faith stolen
Dawn grays
Eyes close.
________________________________________________________________________________
Stigmata of Recent Bleeding
A spot.
Rub a little.
Just with the side of your hand.
Fingernails behind the curtain.
Waiting for their turn.
Rub a little.
Little pills of skin flake.
Sweet burn of sated itch.
But the wiggle smolders
Wee at first
Don’t touch
Can you see it?
The wiggle
The itch
The way your eyes lie
The way they whisper behind your drums
It’s a dance, a little nerve dance
Wiggle and dance
The way the endings do.
Ha.
They don’t see it
But you do.
You welcome the scratch
When the nails peek out.
Scratch
Scratch
Salty burn of sated itch.
But the sizzle smolders.
A prickle at first.
Don’t touch
Can you see it?
The prickle
The itch
The way your eyes cry
The way they fester with a socket rattle
It’s a rattle, a little nerve rattle
Prickle and rattle
The way the endings do.
Yes.
They don’t see it.
But you do.
You welcome the dig
The nails grind and pull
Grind
Dig
Red, fat flash of sated itch.
Lick your fingers
The way the wee ones do.
A spot.
Rub a little.
Just with the side of your hand.
Fingernails behind the curtain.
Waiting for their turn.
Rub a little.
Little pills of skin flake.
Sweet burn of sated itch.
But the wiggle smolders
Wee at first
Don’t touch
Can you see it?
The wiggle
The itch
The way your eyes lie
The way they whisper behind your drums
It’s a dance, a little nerve dance
Wiggle and dance
The way the endings do.
Ha.
They don’t see it
But you do.
You welcome the scratch
When the nails peek out.
Scratch
Scratch
Salty burn of sated itch.
But the sizzle smolders.
A prickle at first.
Don’t touch
Can you see it?
The prickle
The itch
The way your eyes cry
The way they fester with a socket rattle
It’s a rattle, a little nerve rattle
Prickle and rattle
The way the endings do.
Yes.
They don’t see it.
But you do.
You welcome the dig
The nails grind and pull
Grind
Dig
Red, fat flash of sated itch.
Lick your fingers
The way the wee ones do.
________________________________________________________________________________
Mine
You, the sweetest thing
A flame reborn in madness
Take your falling star
A flame reborn in madness
Take your falling star
________________________________________________________________________________
To Wit
and so it goes
he lies awake…..
a hand to trace her absence
fragile grasp of silhouette
painting swirls of vacant curves
eyes across a window pane
through glass and pitch of black
chase the shadow of her ghost
a tongue to taste her remnants
lying dormant in the corners
hints of rancor and restless heart
ears beg to hold, strain to savor
memento of her voice
and the sigh she whispered last
her scent he inhales slow and desperate
chai and absinthe linger
trailing wisps of fading life
and so it goes
he lies awake…..
her shine but a singular moment
on the horizon
of a shattered star.
and so it goes
he lies awake…..
a hand to trace her absence
fragile grasp of silhouette
painting swirls of vacant curves
eyes across a window pane
through glass and pitch of black
chase the shadow of her ghost
a tongue to taste her remnants
lying dormant in the corners
hints of rancor and restless heart
ears beg to hold, strain to savor
memento of her voice
and the sigh she whispered last
her scent he inhales slow and desperate
chai and absinthe linger
trailing wisps of fading life
and so it goes
he lies awake…..
her shine but a singular moment
on the horizon
of a shattered star.
________________________________________________________________________________
Cadence
In dreams, zen fusion
twice and again/skin to skin
souls blaze in the night
twice and again/skin to skin
souls blaze in the night
________________________________________________________________________________
Nexus
beneath the aegis
burning elysian fields
I will take your hand.
beneath the aegis
burning elysian fields
I will take your hand.
________________________________________________________________________________
laissez-faire
eyes closed, thoughts of you
tripping the light fantastic
fire, feet, and the dark
tripping the light fantastic
fire, feet, and the dark
________________________________________________________________________________
Futility
Do you know futility?
Sneaky bastard.
He tiptoes to the foot of your bed in the middle of the night.
You feign austerity.
He calls your bluff.
He is the moment you realize your mind has left you
tumbling toward a mirage
that you were sure was an oasis.
A light in the dark
illuminating the face of ersatz hope
mocking
flickers and dies
as you draw nearer.
He is a patched wound
that continues to bleed
despite all your attempts at hemostasis.
He is futility.
A dream
A hand reaching through the rapids
To grasp a branch
that breaks
as you wake
to the waters rising.
The voice in the mirror
reminding you
That the heart in your chest
was stolen,
its heartless owner hunts you
relentless.
Futility.
A false prophet, he stands
with empty hands
words beguiling
soothsayer to those pliable souls
minds weary by the inertia of pounding life.
With all his wizardry and golden words
he offers up to you
love in a closed fist
fingers clenched in a cruel tease
fallacy of intention
dangling beyond your reach
his marionette
of faux freedom.
Arm extended through the bars of your cage
it dances on its string
manned by the hand that binds you
to the hunting call of his promise.
Do you know futility?
Sneaky bastard.
He tiptoes to the foot of your bed in the middle of the night.
You feign austerity.
He calls your bluff.
He is the moment you realize your mind has left you
tumbling toward a mirage
that you were sure was an oasis.
A light in the dark
illuminating the face of ersatz hope
mocking
flickers and dies
as you draw nearer.
He is a patched wound
that continues to bleed
despite all your attempts at hemostasis.
He is futility.
A dream
A hand reaching through the rapids
To grasp a branch
that breaks
as you wake
to the waters rising.
The voice in the mirror
reminding you
That the heart in your chest
was stolen,
its heartless owner hunts you
relentless.
Futility.
A false prophet, he stands
with empty hands
words beguiling
soothsayer to those pliable souls
minds weary by the inertia of pounding life.
With all his wizardry and golden words
he offers up to you
love in a closed fist
fingers clenched in a cruel tease
fallacy of intention
dangling beyond your reach
his marionette
of faux freedom.
Arm extended through the bars of your cage
it dances on its string
manned by the hand that binds you
to the hunting call of his promise.
________________________________________________________________________________
Toe Stew
Flood of sanguine words
stain dreams with life in lost worlds
You made a mess, boy
stain dreams with life in lost worlds
You made a mess, boy
________________________________________________________________________________
Unlocked
A wanderer
in dark and light places
over thresholds unrestrained
lone expanse of blank walls
bare floors begging to hold
stark windows a screaming beacon
teasing with paths not walked.
Empty smiles returned
with an aching jaw
around corners, another
from the floor, a third
smelling of blind nescience
like fading puddles under dry heat.
A key shines in the dark
gold, or just fools
perched on the ledge of an ear
mumbling smoky promises
of an open door,
a wisp between reaching fingers.
Fickle and frail
this wandering thing
let it pierce the rusted groove.
With mortise freed, grace then fled
and the lock fell
to the floor.
A wanderer
in dark and light places
over thresholds unrestrained
lone expanse of blank walls
bare floors begging to hold
stark windows a screaming beacon
teasing with paths not walked.
Empty smiles returned
with an aching jaw
around corners, another
from the floor, a third
smelling of blind nescience
like fading puddles under dry heat.
A key shines in the dark
gold, or just fools
perched on the ledge of an ear
mumbling smoky promises
of an open door,
a wisp between reaching fingers.
Fickle and frail
this wandering thing
let it pierce the rusted groove.
With mortise freed, grace then fled
and the lock fell
to the floor.
________________________________________________________________________________
fire or freeze
all or none
drama queen or stone
you filthy fucker,
wash me off
I need the in-between girl
love you/hate you
eat me nauseous
kill me while im still alive
i don't want you
god, im desperate
in-between girl hides her face
touch me/get the fuck off me
im begging/i dont care
blind eyes see straight through you
in-between girl stays behind
mother/whore
feral medusa
my snakes don't bite
but i do
in-between girl disappears.
99 Words
Ride with me
for the night
in the dark, where the lost lie
veiled and dirty
like a whore buying time
So many mouths
breathe words
languishing, buried
bête noire in a dress
and a rat in the walls
She hides and lies
behind a dead smile
glass on a finger, just barely, just slight
ticking on the second hand
like speed in a hole in a vein.
So ride with me
and you’ll see her
the ugly, the naked, with mud in her toes
she’ll tell you her real name
like the empty face of a new moon
for the night
in the dark, where the lost lie
veiled and dirty
like a whore buying time
So many mouths
breathe words
languishing, buried
bête noire in a dress
and a rat in the walls
She hides and lies
behind a dead smile
glass on a finger, just barely, just slight
ticking on the second hand
like speed in a hole in a vein.
So ride with me
and you’ll see her
the ugly, the naked, with mud in her toes
she’ll tell you her real name
like the empty face of a new moon
________________________________________________________________________________
Recurring Dream
I walk
even strides, long
Tattered dress, trails the grass
Dark hair, reflects the sun
Snow White, how do I know?
I can feel her in me
I walk
I stop
A pond in her yard, dirty cement
Koi, spotted, gold, alive
They swim, through scum
Sun fades, throttled by clouds
I can feel her fear
I stop
I kneel
knees bent, dress in dirt
eyes knowing, same shit, different night
reflection of wrinkled brow, brown water
Koi call, I answer
I can feel their command
I kneel
I reach
one hand, fingernails cut, into earth
one hand, hovers, lingers
last night and again, submerges
water- no, acerbic familiarity
I can feel rendering of fat and flesh
I reach
I draw
hand from under, no hand- evanescent
liquefied, deliquescent, dripping
bloodied- bone to sweat
eyes dead, tilt of head, closer
I can feel no pain
I wake.
even strides, long
Tattered dress, trails the grass
Dark hair, reflects the sun
Snow White, how do I know?
I can feel her in me
I walk
I stop
A pond in her yard, dirty cement
Koi, spotted, gold, alive
They swim, through scum
Sun fades, throttled by clouds
I can feel her fear
I stop
I kneel
knees bent, dress in dirt
eyes knowing, same shit, different night
reflection of wrinkled brow, brown water
Koi call, I answer
I can feel their command
I kneel
I reach
one hand, fingernails cut, into earth
one hand, hovers, lingers
last night and again, submerges
water- no, acerbic familiarity
I can feel rendering of fat and flesh
I reach
I draw
hand from under, no hand- evanescent
liquefied, deliquescent, dripping
bloodied- bone to sweat
eyes dead, tilt of head, closer
I can feel no pain
I wake.
________________________________________________________________________________
In-Between Girl
fire or freeze
all or none
drama queen or stone
you filthy fucker,
wash me off
I need the in-between girl
love you/hate you
eat me nauseous
kill me while im still alive
i don't want you
god, im desperate
in-between girl hides her face
touch me/get the fuck off me
im begging/i dont care
blind eyes see straight through you
in-between girl stays behind
mother/whore
feral medusa
my snakes don't bite
but i do
in-between girl disappears.
________________________________________________________________________________
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