Hour Glass

  Everything takes so long but happens too soon. Can this be possible? The hours dance their time-step in molasses. Silence falls soft in the cold – its drifts growing heavy, an iceberg gathering momentum yet still getting nowhere. I lay on its embankment, my mind tangled in prisms of crystal memory. I thought it…

And all I hear I as I sit here

is the hum of the wine cooler Too many bottles of courage chilling while I remain hermetically sealed locked behind door and window My skin used to perform a red ant crawl at the compressor’s sound but I’ve become accustomed to complacency’s drone Swallowing dark Lapping up silence My dis-ease a slow flypaper striptease peeling…

This is the sun

This is the blind beating the blind A slough-dance of bones to dust The rattle of corneas, the singeing of lids White orbs socketed in fractured skulls We stagger in empty frames wandering while Raphael is ringing the minaret bell in Cordoba. I walk amidst all the naysayers pointing Their hot little fingers in outward…

Presidio Way

Sunshine smiled down at me On Golden Gate Promenade With his broad granite shoulders With his gleaming flaxen locks His charm Knifing through the wind Cutting ribbons in my skin Had I not been born a Boricua Princess From the illustrious projects of East Harlem Had I been born a simple indigene With a failed…

Under The Lenten Moon

  I saw it there. On the shore. Face buried in the sand. Spade in hand. The glint of blade visible in the full moonlight. I touched a cold shoulder and quickly pulled away. Blood sticky on my fingers. I heard the caw. Saw the black silhouette of a sprawling wing against the face of…

The Plagiarist

From the time he was a boy painstakingly slicing the legs off centipedes with his father’s rusty cast-off razor blades, Ian practiced precision as his religion. Adulthood eventually led him away from the wanton abandon of sharpening his skills by dissecting animal bodies and removing the appendages of insects – recreating them, improving them –…

Before The Last Leaf Falls

    Maybe we should look a gift horse in the mouth, or at least be sure there aren’t scores of Greeks ready to pop out and battle our Trojans. He appeared out of nowhere, and folded her under his wing like aguardian angel. She nestled there in the strength of his reassurances. She felt…

Pretensions

You write. You wrong. Right? Or is it left? Or does the deafness in your deftness leave you breathless? Go ahead. Wank off and spew your spume. Words are just an endgame to you. You’ve never taken the journey, the destination is all you are after. Skip a vowel. Omit a comma, get the sensation…

Second Life

“Crazy is as crazy does. Fucking freaks of nature. That’s what the lot of us are”, was what her mama always said to her, but Linda Jefferson was desperate to be associated with a cause or a group or with anything that would give her some true higher sense of identity. She wanted to feel…

The night mounts you

Sunrise is not even a thing you dream. Words forge meaning. Without sound or hope of utterance. You lie there. Lie there. There. In the dank. Shriveled in your foreskin. Until the scrawl that is your mind becomes a sprawling. A vast netherearth network of channeled waste. You think you’re thinking, yet you’re not. You’re…

Plane Thinking

I’m sitting in the middle seat. There’s a man to the left of me caught in the age-old tug of war with mortal declension. Like me, he’s not young, he’s not old. He’s stuck in the middle. He is vanilla. Medium height. Medium weight. Medium colored skin and hair. Awash in middle world mediocrity– the…

Over Par

“Delicious steak, McGoops! Mmmmmm mmmmmm,” he bellows for the fourth time in five minutes. She thanks him with increasingly less gratitude after his fourth iteration of this ostensible appreciation for her culinary skills. He gives her another, “Mmmmm!” and she fails to acknowledge it this time, trying her best not to imagine plunging her steak…

I am a free radical

an open shell in solvent cage dangling my covalent Bond An unattached be- ing seek – ing always to attach to someone or something or destroy it, because this void’s ness needs to be filled. “Nature abhors a vacuum” You are the something longing to be nothing I am the nothing longing to be something…

He likes to tear the wings off butterflies

‘Calico’ ‘Mmmm… Hmm?’ ‘Calico’, he whispered in my ear as he traced its contours with a tip of tongue. I moaned my pleasure and stopped caring about the whys – until I felt the knife plunge.

Peace Is Not Something You Fight For

We stood there at the edge of it all our match heads struck and burning Lighting the night’s oil with our flame. We crossed the checkered fields, bare feet crunching grass, feeling polarity flipping its switches, oscillating between white blight and sinking black All’s square that ends square, yeah? The similarities greater than the differences,…

Maybe My Hair Is Too Curly

“Curly-haired people CARE!” pronounced the clipboard-bearing, Greenpeace-T-shirt wearing menace, as I swam into her ken with the snakes atop my head all a-coil. “Yes, we do!” I sound out breezily, sailing past her poisonous atmosphere. “Well, come on over, I need you!” she growled from her dyke patroldom. “Sorry,” say I with a true note…

Heaven Must Be Missing Two Angels

She rides high on daddy’s shoulders wrapped in giggles and pink promises. Her magenta North Face jacket zipped up tight, hoodie on head, smile on face. She’s singing songs only sunshine can truly understand. Not even this wind dare blow against them; they’re floating on air – that pair, every shadow brightens at the sight….

Welcome To Facebook

Welcome To Facebook This place is like Tana Toraja, everything revolves around death. The graves can be very sophisticated yet sometimes, long after the coffins are destroyed by time, people gently place bones along natural cave ‘racks’. Often, the bones are offered cigarettes or sweets. This is supposed to prevent dead ancestors from bringing bad…

Trailer Chic

She has perfected the art of self-pity. Turned it into an admirable vehicle for slinging mud. Made it into a manifesto for a ragtag army of fellow emos to sign in anemic blood. When she isn’t lauding her own subversive brand of Annie Oakley pluckiness or bragging about the shape of her ass and the…

Uncoupled

A man, in his strength, looks like the sky The world cowers beneath the flex of such might Shame! Stand before Collosus, unbend your spine, see not his laurel-wreathed brow, so proud and so blind Excellent! Quick raise me up, lest I should recall those eyes in full reign, the thunder that left me in…

Irrelevant Irreflection #456992

Mythology would have us believe that Echo was cursed by Juno for being a treacherous loudmouth who had the misfortune of falling in love with an arrogant twat, inadvertently causing his death, but the truth is she was just in love with her own voice. 1 Comment 8Ryan Carter, Robert Austrian and 6 others LikeShow…

Buttermilk

Mona is perpetually hungry. Her intestines are not so much organs for digestion as they are a nest of tapeworms, wiggling and wriggling and tickling inside her; swallowing up all she chews, but can’t taste. Consumption consumes her. She wants for wanting. The wanting won’t stop. Her ghost belly bloats, but never feels full enough….

Vaped

She is tar, heat and combustion Her seduction is a throat hit filling the gap in your empty spaces She cools your nerves Loosens your tongue Then dangles heat on hungry lips. Tight-flamed, tersely packaged waving her magic wand It makes no sense It doesn’t have to You can’t resist her She will kill you…

This is the sun

This is the blind beating the blind A slough-dance of bones to dust The rattle of corneas, the singeing of lids White orbs socketed in fractured skulls We stagger in empty frames wandering while Raphael is ringing the minaret bell in Cordoba. I walk amidst all the naysayers pointing Their hot little fingers in outward…

The Temptation To Bite

You’re standing there, somewhere In that apart place, strung up high On a line, your clothespins tight-clipped. The bubble boy, all sanitized and minty Fresh. Go ahead, deny the gnaw of bone, Defy the salt of blood all you like, but I Still smell the meat on your breath.

Raw

In chess, the first move is called “the opening” but I’m not interested in strategy I’m just about the conquest. I want the simplicity of sex Without the complicity of vice. Your ice cuts deep grooves in my vain… My ego is thumping hard Trying to outpace you. Bless me, Father, for I love sin,…

Dread

He eats what we eat. Has two hands, two feet Sleeps with his mouth closed, on his side, both knees tucked in toward his belly, sweet as a tadpole. His smile crinkles his eyes and broadens his cheeks, but never shows his teeth. His teeth might betray him. He says “sir” and “ma’am” when addressing…

I.C.U.

“He has vanquished fair Womankind, of subtle heart, Her tender arms outstretched and her throat pale; From harrowing Hell, he now returns triumphant, Bearing a heavy trophy in his boyish hands,” ~ Parsifal, Paul Verlaine 1886 I see you… I C U Me: An Intensive Care Unit of Want A greedy, needy living triage center…

We Are Ourselves The Void In Contemplation

There are deep channels to cross With Youth on the prow and Pleasure at the helm Choice is the very marrow of every boned existence. My wrists are rivers My fingers are words I lean as close to you with my words as I can Mine is the touch of A thousand suns that brand…

Don Pedro

Had pockets full of candy and a tongue steeped in rum. Half-carried, half-dragged home by his compadres who patronized La Cuevita – candy store cum numbers running racket and neighborhood hangout below street level right next door to St. Lucy’s Church & Elementary School where we Catholic school brats bought our Kit Kats and our…

In the Garden of Good and Eve(il)

    I wish I could blame the hull of the wreck I man, or the inebriated air for this sea of unapologetic want, but I can’t. Sobriety is the sobriquet that named me. I arose from the foam. I am Venus on the half-shell. My powers can charm snakes, realign stars, untangle the roots…

To wit-to-woo

Sense of humor always churned all her cream to butter She valued the sparkle of a diamond mind He was far from her usual wise owl men He never could learn to tell the difference between a punch and a line But he was granite-bodied and animal-kind; his voice purred her kitten, he had baker’s…

Scorpio

He spits before speaking. Says he doesn’t like the taste of words in his mouth. Pa prefers to talk with his hands, and his smile and his knife. He carved a pumpkin for us this Halloween. Scariest thing you ever seen. Told us to wait until Thanksgiving to see what he can do to a…

In Tabasco Sauce We Trust

It’s suddenly a sea salt caramel and sriracha covered world. Everywhere I go vendors are obsessively turning food esoterica into consumer erotica. Pimping paradise on a plate. Making me regret I ever partook of such prosaic pleasures. I hate feeling plebeian, but I shouldn’t be so grouchy. “Let ’em eat sea salt caramel.” is what…

Do You Know The Way To San Jose?

The wave rose in hushes cresting on tips of tongues whispering soft somethings to itself, streaming its ease into the crevices of a low retaining wall along the bay. A slur of sea salted the mottled stone, permeating it, in ravening rushes – the eddying of its currents shivering through me until I became every…

Meet Al

  I Sunlight streams here in this place where shadows usually rule the day. I sit under a thumb of sky and sip coffee as I listen to the hum of this paraffin world being spun on its axis. Two men talk shop. They speak of books, furnishings, and millionaires they barely know with more…

Ta Politika

  The faithful all gather carrying shovels, picks and hoes; donning hard hats and brown shirts, with smiles pasted on praying lips Hallelujah is the song they whistle while they work pretending they are bluebirds The whirr is non-stop more squeal than drone accompanied by the pile-drive: that slow and heavy clunk clunk clunk of…

Mythos

The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.” – Isak Dinesen     It will be shot through the lens of a bottle, you can choose the form: beer, champagne, or baby. I know it doesn’t seem so but I’m really not that finicky. Do what thou wilt. A spire of…

The Siren Sings

My patience is razor thin The break in these waves Sink pacific situations Below the table, all a-sea But don’t expect me to swim Under you to meet them. I lost my gills 30 evolutions ago and The moon I bask beneath has No room for a rampaging Caliban This archipelago has survived sans humility….

Lady Frankenstein

There are always the details to get wrong eye color, mouth shape, the place where the neck curves its will to bend beyond bone by the fascism of muscle control. As I dig in the dirt I realize that none of this matters. I exhume each love, part by part, until one man becomes interchangeable…

And this is love…

  A handfold over a heart, a smile that lights the dark, a simple hope, a complex dream, the stitch that sews the fraying seam, the blanket that swathes the babe who sleeps in the arms that cradle his trust, the moon that skims his trust’s horizon silvering shadows that follow his sun, the sun…

Parch Meant

  November is your familiar Attending you like a hound Doing your bidding Its drizzle dampening every heart – except yours You are impervious to the trouble with water Your eyes never cry Your tear ducts are dry Your love a plateau Where no trees can grow Arresting mist Steepening stark Your lips carve basaltic…

The Oblivion Of Adam

      Ibn al-Qarih told him He was the first poet But he wouldn’t recollect He wanted to forget all of it How his hands felt like clay As he wrapped them round The heft of the fruit The meeting of tooth With skin and flesh The surge of bittersweetness The trail of tentative…

Frisson

It’s in the rustle of sheets And the edge of glass pressed cool and sharp against warm and soft in the flood of liquid plush drowning a thirsting tongue in the slip of skin  slick with sweat seasoned with salt in the pulse of vein mapping our bodies with its cartography of want  In the…

The Unloosening of Leaves

It’s a shimmy and a shimmer the wind gives 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 amber moments dreaming of lost green…

Karma Police

I wake up to the carnage of morning all rag-and-bone-bloodied bliss: the dead fly trapped in cat’s eye wonder. How many spiders will come crawling out of the night’s shadows, scurrying away from their dusty webs like sex-frighted nuns whose habits are torn in holy expiation? Slap the cuffs on me already, Officer before I…

Just Two Sips of Costa Rica Aurora From Oblivion

  So what is it? I don’t know, not exactly, but I’m not sure I am inhabiting this body. Not really. Not to capacity. Not anymore. I feel soft, soft, soft… fluid in my boundaries, all air pockets and waterfall rushes, I struggle to catch the drips of myself but I’m using a cracked crystal…

Log Cabin Reveille

You wake up To the fire Covered In creosote plumes Your mind is the flame Smoke stokes your lungs Into a sputter of breath. Your liver is where Your heart used to be. You have no use for Your heart anymore. Something smashes. Was it glass? The soldiers of light Marching through your window? You’re…

“…sunshine on repeat”

  It’s 3 a.m. again. Seen from Earth, the illuminated fraction of the Moon surface is 5% and waning, sharper than a scimitar – just the width of the slip of her witch’s tongue. Darkness seeks its own level, it’s a slow-sleep in her veins. She stirs the stars like any other woman would stir…

One Burn, One Red, One Grin

  I pluck a memory like I would the petal of a daisy, “he loves me… he loves me not…” I won’t let a flower determine anything. So… I choose “he loves me…” Against all common sense, in revolt against reason, against memory, my desire a fist – white hot – wanting to smash time’s…