Lazar

  Words poured like lac from your mouth. Their meaning thick crimson – crushed and constringed – straining through the march of red ants that always fed them. I stormed through ivory gates – my claudicating limbs carefully avoiding the sticky word puddles that swelled up around me. But it was Sunday and I was…

Vagaries

  She wore her mind loosely. Like a garment carelessly tossed Over a hanger on a sales rack. Its threads slightly unraveling at the seams, picked over and discarded by more discerning shoppers. The cut of her cranial cloth was no longer fashionable. It lacked bold clean lines, but its shirred diaphanous folds draped her…

We The Urbane

  Whether I’m under the frost, or blooming at the end of the garden where time slept, the hour is horribly gaudy. My earth bleeds copious amounts to you. I am the warm blush of Sincerity’s medicine, lips bruised like soft fruit under truth. Am I here at the table of someone? Some thing? Feed…

Overstand (NaPoWriMo Day 29)

Silence skins the moon the stars float along lost in the stark like shit summering in the Mississippi River I look into your eyes But your vision is clouded reflecting the storm of butterflies that tries to win your dandelion love one cellophane-wing flutter at a time I like to tease the lizard from your…

Port-al (NaPoWriMo Day 27 – Taste)

    Its temptation is a vituperative fanged beast…. ready to strike. First, a lip cuts hard against your soft. Then it’s all penetration. The attack is sweet on your tongue, and it won’t let you go, this you know, you consume it, it consumes you, viscous vicious perfume napalms your mouth, lashing down your…

The Witness (NaPoWriMo Day 26)

It will be some time before we know if the operation was a success. The bandages on his hands and face enfold him like my gauzy angel wings did before the incident. Gosh… remember back in the 21st Century when people didn’t believe in us, despite the preponderance of evidence? I mean really? What other…

Boxing Helena (NaPoWriMo Day 25 – Small Spaces)

I’ll be your best kept secret Hide me from prying eyes Spread my wings On your pinning board Examine me on Your graticule slide Place me next to your Topps’ cards and marbles – lay me with your Indian-head nickels and old Bowie knives. Slice me bit by bit, if you must. Pulverize me, Turn…

Judith Is A Hot Mess

I’ve got Holofernes hiding under my bed He’s terrified, and I am exhausted. My phone has rung off its hook and my sword feels too heavy. Holofernes’ broken bottle eyes glare at the knife edge of his future. He’s caught in Thanatos’ tractor beam, wounded by my Eros. There’s plenty of time yet for me…

Marginalized

 (NaPoWriMo Day 24 – Marginalia)

They’re running along the borders trying to escape boredom, I attempt to keep up, but my eyes somersault from their sockets, and swan dive into parchment
, rolling on thorned ivy vines and steamy dreams. Everything is golden, so golden like sunrise. Just ahead, two monks toe a fleshen tightrope of intestines, coming at each other…

How To Seed A Dandelion (NaPoWriMo Day 22 – Geordic)

  It’s an unlessoning of leaves. It’s a shimmy and a shimmer. The wind give you a little push and *whoosh* you are set loose. Carried off by the dogma of hide-and-go seek. The flame in your veins a liquid ecstasy unleashing all promises that wick through your want; yet now you’ve fallen, fallen in…

Molotov Cocktails Will Be Served This Evening (NaPoWriMo Day 21 – Dialogue) 

“You disappeared.” “I went to the bathroom.” “Oh? How was it?” “Fantastic.” “Fantastic things happened in the bathroom?” “Yes.” “Of course, bathrooms can be portals to other worlds.” “True. So can fists! My fist can catapult a face directly to the moon.” “Always the violence, huachinango. *sigh* Even here in paradise.” “Paradise, especially! Consider Eve….

The Queen’s Gambit (NaPoWriMo Day 20 – Games)

  “she’s like a swallow, possessed of her own barbaric song, strange, dark.” You come to me Man of  shadowy guises Every midnight The clock strikes Filling this receptacle That poses as my mind Your sculptures of fire a mystical display Nature transforms to theatre stage We’re partners in Dadaism And the games never end……

The Secret Garden (NaPoWriMo Day 19 – Creation Myth)

  She walked the path at that place of emptiness codified… Where monuments speak in glints of dappled light on crumbling limestone; where the wind cries out the name of the lonely, where the north summers in lost twilights. Under the shadow of those ruins, she picked wildflowers as flies hummed to the rhythm of…

The Blood Gasps For A Mouth Constantly (NaPoWriMo Day 18 – Neologisms)

      She sleeps, dovering over the world, Wrapped in sheets of sky. Clouds cotton her head. She is wool-baited, sleezevacked. Her flywheel sun spinneting out of control. The tracks in her dreams are dubbed In languages she can’t understand, Her thoughts refuse to be spoken. Schema of rhubric scars her skin. Aphasia coats…

Nocturne in Jung Minor (NaPoWriMo Day 17 – Nocturne)

The moon falls in tangled sheets I’m trapped, wrapped in threads of reverie oh let me sleep… why can’t I sleep… is it your mystery that yanks all these tides in me reflecting the light that only reveals itself under the cloak of midnight? My mind twists another turn down its labyrinth and I’m in…

S.W.A.K. (NaPoWriMo Day 16 – Epistolary)

    Darling, I am out here on the fringes The moon has become a kissing cousin And the stars are the vehicles that stall As I try to drive to you I gave up sleeping at night. In fact, I gave up sleeping altogether Now I dream awake and lie To my subconscious, my…

Asesino (NaPoWriMo Day 13 – Ghazal)

        The Mother Of All Bombs wrapped her arms around Nangarhar – through my window. My only concern is you as I watch distant clouds form – through my window. Rhine Falls in December, you’re cold, on a phone, miles from anywhere I call home. My rolling touchstone, no moss, but not…

Hollow (NaPoWriMo Day 12 – Assonance & Alliteration)

  He doesn’t know how to touch me, but I’m a traitor to myself. I take his hand every day, place it somewhere on my body, try to teach him geography, but his compass’ North never points to me. It’s not his fault. It’s not mine. There’s just no magnetism. Still, I encourage him to…

Re MEME Burred (NaPoWriMo Day 11 – the Bop)

    There’s a throne. It’s set high above a silicon valley Where contagions disguised as ideas are discarded to divine. Every god now wears raggedy raiments as he sits typing In his mother’s basement. The day Einstein feared has arrived. Technology is king. You reach for the alarm clock, But you can’t wake up…

Mommy Dearest (NaPoWriMo Day 10 – Portrait )

  I’m staring into a river, reflecting. It’s the East River come west, And its low tide. Now is when A city’s underbelly is exposed. An expulsion of bowels flows, Its pungency assaults nostrils The same way you still hit me. Here’s another portrait of my mother one that is less succinct, more “poetic”  …

La Taurina (NaPoWriMo Day 9 – Spenserian Stanza)

    Red – color of desire; Red – emblem of flame. Red blood, Red lips, Red fury, Red skies, Red tide – Harbinger of death; my blame bleeds Red shame – Red as your hair; my Red eyes sleep deprived. In the silt of moonless night, you arrived – Open-grave body absorbing my dread…

Renovation (NaPoWriMo Day 8 – Repetition)

  The scaffolding’s so rickety Rusted bolts Dented poles Loosely bound By malcontent The rotted wood of those planks Too weak to even house worms. I don’t know how you can trust A man to rebuild your home Who won’t maintain integrity Of the structure meant To support his own. The wind will blow it…

Anatomy of a Dream (NaPoWriMo – Day 7)

 I  Three Things The scalloped silver salver filled with coins from all the countries I’ve been without him. That Edwin Lutyens clock – made of Jadeite and sterling silver, shaped like the dream that electrified Nexus-6 android’s sleep, rose gold numbers on a platinum face, behind a small glass portal like a monocle with Lutyens’ signature finial on top….

33 Ways (& Counting) of Looking At You – NaPoWriMo – Day 6

    I clowning beneath your gleaming crown and pixelated grin arms raised high leading us all the way to heaven II as a Sunday morning 7:11am breaking of the fast when I was famished III through the bits of compressed air endlessly devil-tritoning in my ear IV after a twig snap in that purple…

Herzlandschaft (NaPoWriMo Day 5)

I By day, it’s Golden Gate Promenade, a strip of trail along a line of shore; by night only my dreams wander these desolate moors… they transmute into sadscapes, places tracing their charcoal over my frottaged thoughts: I tread over weeds, the weathered skeleton of a stubborn old tree a mound of cicada shells. I…

Membean (NaPoWriMo Day 3)

Membean: An Elegy (NaPoWriMo Day 3) “Salve, Regina, Mater misericordiæ, vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve. Ad te clamamus exsules filii Hevæ, Ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes, in hac lacrimarum valle.” The scythe of brash insistence accosts me With the kind of ideas that are never indexed. Its Hollywood-delineated K-Pop shadow mashup Images stretched…

Phoenix Meets Dragon: A Recipe For Disaster (NaPoWriMo Day 2)

\       All my poems are actually items on take-out menus from Chinese restaurants offering free delivery and a can of soda with every order. Too bad I forget The numbers And hate telephones. I get so hungry. I channel my inner Guanyin Dismount your Dragon Still my thousand arms Sit high atop…

Pomegranates Are From Another Planet (NaPoWriMo: Day One)

    There is a breeze bugling through the trees announcing with fanfare that Spring has cum. I clamp my ears to the sound. Fuck Persephone and her asphodel crown. You’re not here So as far as I’m concerned The Queen of Spring and all her primavera fling-things could ride the next southeasterly jet-stream straight…

Cafe Scene

    Rachel sits at a table for one. Small and cramped, with barely enough space beneath its architecture for her to cross her long legs. Being single – a punishable offense at her age, even in the dregs of a mid-life cafe sobriety, Society took every opportunity to remind her of this infraction: Jamming…

The Milkman Cometh

  Harry was already having a hard day. It started when he went down to the laundry room a few minutes to midnight to take his uniform out of the dryer before his shift. Agnes, his wife, was a good little hausfrau. She baked a steak and kidney pie that would put tears of joy…

Mad Cow Disease

“And I, remaining in this self – same place, Will, for myself but one, make seven appear, When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so Our custom is to call each other up.” ~excerpt from Dante, Canto XXII (Argument) Buzzsaws are whirring in my head. My throat is burning. The air is thick with…

Another Fish Tale

  Carve intricacies into me the shade and patterns of your lambent moods anchor me to your thoughts turn my bones into scrimshaw hollow me holy there are only stones, flesh, stars and those truths the hand can touch with a knife cut, etched in candle black, soot and spat tobacco juice. Then scatter my…

Imbolc

The sky’s pelt all matted and furred snarls at the horizon clouds ravel a tangle of dark wet promise. I’d love to bury my face in its coat, give it a nuzzle inhale its musk drink its sour milk drape its body like a stole around my shoulders promenade along the San Francisco Bay unlock…

The Gods Must Be Crazy

You may not suspect that a constellation of stars is really a celestial battlefield Or that the stamen of a flower yearns for the sting of its winged lover We refuse to believe That each cell within us cleaves with a viral God-like need to plot our destiny Collectively Plowing fields Mining mores Breeding universes…

P.T. Barnum Is LOL-ing in Hell

Picture this, if you will Yet another VIP circle jerk: They pass around a Strawberry Kiss K & Y To lube up with, but let the peasants get Their genitals chafed with something generic. There’s loose talk  Of love trumping hate, and a whole mess of 60s cliches Signs blowing in the wind that say,…

Galatea

  The dream came slowly Screens of haze Opened, partition After partition… First the hands showed me Their palms I traced each line on them Like a blind cartographer By memory and wishful thinking Then the tongues spoke, Their taste buds blossoming Into water lilies, floating The serenity of each beautiful word, Finally the eyes…

Cosmic Goo

  The road turns into a river. The river runs to the sea. Galloping to the finish line The end waits there for me To cross it. Determined to face Its taunts, I say a Hail Mary And wade in neck deep, But I can’t swim. The water senses my dis-ease, Tips its flowery cap…

Come Down On Me

    Mad Boy Devil’s son With the Botticelli face And the raven’s eye Atop a spring-form body Cocked, locked & so fully loaded You would make Michelangelo cry… Are you carved out of granite? Nah… Though you are composed of every precious Bit of ore on this planet Reflected in 23 cracked mirrors Fooling…

Nova Rising

  My mother’s womb was a graveyard So many little lives Sprung and hung Within her Dying before They ever breathed air I wonder if she still feels The wake of their ghosts Swimming there I was one of three to survive 9 months captivity in the hellmouth Of her volcano I bear the scars…

Leda

    The storm clouds Are pouring their brew And I’m umbrellaless Beneath them. There’s sunshine everywhere But here. How did I wind up on this Rain-soaked Cliff? Another rendezvous With Jupiter missed Is my best guess. Why doesn’t he Ever ruffle his swan feathers To let me know When he’s swooping my way Anymore?…

Long Past Due

  Begging for sanctuary in my fulgurite veins, Serenity’s magical illusions seep into bits of me. Shattered, re-glued and almost whole again, I’m endeavoring to make myself a leaf flowering, a bird chirped. A writer. I’ve always been a reader. Creation seeks its own path. My father was such a tangle of dimension. My mother…

Hell To The Infinite YES!

    To the panoply of nay-sayers who now (& forever) abound at the early hours of yet another New Year’s Day to sneer, jeer, and otherwise smirk smarmily about the utter banality and futility of celebrating any occasion, I present the following from the godfather of nihilism, jotted down in his own little journal…

Phaeton

      This is sentience This is knowing This is the phantom limb That won’t stop feeling You are out there Somewhere Burning holes in the dark My body molasses pours slow and thick Coagulating soft to hard There are a thousand words for this death All of them spell your name    …