Interiors

    There is an insistence An urgency to this inhabitance in space and time. Circle meets square Lines intersect and form angles These corners are never cut Their crux remains integral Even when you twirl your compass, wield your ruler try to graph each pinpoint where eye meets mind So what if God arithmitizes…

Aubade

       This is morning-song Your hands lathe my curves Deepening them And I take the shape you form I am a hollow wooden instrument Gathering dust in a forgotten corner Until you pick me up to play my strings Suddenly I’m lacquered in the gloss Of your touch My body resonant with your…

A Narrow Escape

“What is that you’re typing into? Is that a laptop? A computer? Or what?” Never pausing to load the ammunition she chewed, Norma fired off questions like scud missiles – they missed what they aimed for, but precision was not important to the operator, not as long as something, anything within a few miles of…

Writing For Dear Life

    “You ought to be preparing yourself… to hear truths, which no inflexibility will be able to withstand,” James Madison once wrote to Thomas Jefferson. We were in a hall of mirrors The place where nothing Can multiply into something Because you needed it to. One is such a lonely number. Scrolls clung to…

Everyone Looks A Gift Horse In The Mouth

Art by Vito Acconci, City of Words, 1999     Time is fast and Space is slow, but December finally settled in. The air was hard and cold Its honed edge slicing through you with every breath. Seemed a fitting time for a death Not that anyone I knew was dying. Not exactly… though, of…

Shoot First, Ask Questions Later

The prophecy was pre-fulfilled I didn’t expect him to understand He chewed nails and spit out bullets Riding his angst into the setting sun Que sera Sera He was born with ammunition But I was the one who loaded the gun                        

Tipsy

      Nights like this I sweep my hair back and plait it into braids, hoping to quell the chaos that kicks through each strand of me in the fitful night. Its rope, pendant in my hand. Streaking across the butterfrost sky, a red light blares, blinking a warning to my telescopic sight. I…

Just Another Burning Bush

  When the man was a boy, he walked through thicketed woods. Loblolly pines, cypress, beech, and magnolia trees lined the walking path which lay like the centre aisle in a grand cathedral. The trees were pews to sit, stand or kneel on. It was a holy place then, a place for contemplation, a place…

Because Daddy Bought Him A PS4 Instead of the X-Box One

    (304): Someone just asked me why I drink so much. Im gonna slap a bitch ~TFLN Disaffected youth runs a rusted razor down a pale arm The vein that he slices is a feint of blue pretending to bleed blood, but it only bleeds excuses – those excuses extrude from the wound like…

Move along there’s nothing to see here

  Ghosts, like moments, can’t cast shadows. Yet why does memory never fail me when I’m trying to forget a thing? Hollow bones rattle and moan shrieking their siren song into my traitorous ears. I try to unhear, to tie myself up in the present, but my odyssey’s mast keeps sailing me straight into the…

The Moon Orbits Its Mourning

Light bends the eye toward it. Time rolls the body downhill, picking all our pockets as we lose momentum. The sun hides it face, the stars fall from the sky. I can deny my need for you and still breathe because Life was never meant to be more than an elaborate lie      …

Chthonic

  The scarecrow’s wedding was in a vegetable patch. He was there with nothing but the veil of evening to shroud him. Mist tendrils winding around his straw hair as he prepared the ground. He was trying to get along without shoveling the usual manure. The rutabagas and the cabbages accused him of collusion. The…

The Oak

    You were never mine The woods reclaimed you You belonged to the branches to the peeling of bark to the fullness of leaves scraping your plush against stratified skies Your green can’t be contained by my concrete… You pushed your way through the fissures I wonder if you’ll shed your skin as easily…

El Maestro

His sunshine flashes its bright as I peer into my rear-view mirror I’m blinded I’m trying Like hell to make my get-away from that last bumber smash Until his words crash into me with their sledgehammer Bam! But he wields them with such surgical precision his shock and awe feels delicate as a petal’s touch…

Requiem of A Dream

  I will keep I will keep You With me I can wait I can bait Your fisher king His coffee grounds are used His Carpenter’s cup is empty His a thirst that always grows His a covenant to go His a shadow’s lost hello His destination a bleak flatline horizon Crucify the dawn Sacrifice…

Watermelon Baby

By the time she spit out the seeds, there was nothing left of him to want. His sweet juice ran in streams down the sides of her mouth, over her chin and down further still… leaving his watermark on her pristine white heart. She tried to wash him away, until no remnant of him remained….

Say “Uncle”.

Little fictions exist here within this Pascal’s abyss Where I find Klimt’s kiss furrowed deep in your shadowy brow I scurry to capture my discovery in the cursive gift of writing with pen in hand Eschewing the sterile plastic of keyboard meeting uncommitted fingertip. Somehow in the grip of quill and the messy thrill of…

Crissy Field

The end came without ceremony again tonight. There were only a few of us in attendance, anyway. Just me, a hushed bay, and some seagulls scattered to scavenge for torn bits of sourdough bread from the lady who comes every twilight to ask them frankly about the government tapping her phone; wondering aloud to them…

Hell Is Other People

  She lies. On her side, on what was once their bed, and waits. The waiting is interminable. Her head sinks deep into a pillow. The pillow becomes a wormhole swallowing her whole. She is suspended in space. Waiting. The lie has now expanded its horizon, and she is caught in its web. She’s trapped…

The Night Mounts You

Sunrise isn’t even a thing you dream. Words meant to forge meaning try, but fail. Without sound or hope of utterance, you lie there. Lie there. There. In the dark. Shriveled in your foreskin. Until the scrawl that is your mind becomes a sprawling. A vast netherearth network of waste just channels of charnel. You…

Awake

I sent him a text, but it was marked undelivered, so I decide – against the conventions of the era – to deliver the message in person. “Where have you been?” asks he. “Mars,” say I. “I thought you were a thetan? All thetans are from Venus.” He has a point. But I don’t concede…

A Lesson In Thermodynamics

You said there was nothing left Yet you forget that matter cannot be destroyed: water converts to vapor, buildings to rubble, bodies to ashes, and memories to flashes of light bouncing off the moon’s surface ( that moon, moon, moon – the one you’re always attuned to) but their essence remains untouched. Wash. Rinse. Repeat….

As The World Salt-Shakers Itself Gently

    It’s morning again. The wind is hushed breath. December sky is pale milkwash. There is no glare for shadows to hide. Glowing softly, so softly, its light gilds my eyes and everything takes on a warm-baked hue, serendipity soaks my skin, I am steeped deep in honey, and suddenly think of you – how…

Cinderella

      The clouds fire their cannons What’s left of us falls like shrapnel The war is over We are the stuff of burnt out stars and cindered dreams Night after night I wander with carefully bandaged step to the same sea wall and watch a wounded sun sink to its death Watching and…

What’s Going On? (A National Geographic Special)

      Dangle a piece of tender meat in front of an animal, caged or free, and just watch his jaw get to work. Salivary glands turn into water cannons. Canines spring open like switchblades, ready to slice muscles, sever tendons. The world narrows into orchards of bone, and streams of marrow. This response…

Eclipsed

      I howl every night as he rises inside me. He’s beautiful. His blue-eyed shine is all electric sky glide, when we collide I never know what’s on his mind, he speaks in primal clicks and sonic booms. My doom explodes with his perfume. Every word he telegraphs ignites me. He’s got scorpions…

On Being Marked “That Bitch”

I Roam is not a city, but the way you do it could burn a galaxy in one day. Nero will accompany you on his fiddle II Erotic tastes like caramel Sometimes braids its hair Wears a mirrored face and has stubborn black roots. III Culture Club had very little culture and was not a…

Come Mierda

    “You’ve got pineapple picking hands,” he told me. I was 10. It was summer. We were in Dona Juanita’s apartment. 421 East 102nd St #1-C was my sanctuary even though it was only just across the hall from where the bad things were happening. There was no bell tower no hunchback, and I wasn’t…

Grace Cathedral

  Less is more, you think. But your thoughts are just speculation. You know more and more about less and less. Diminishment is the cost of your return. Myopia will make you blind. You have walked the two labyrinths: inside and outside. You feel peaceful. He who wishes to continue to harm you has your…

Straight, No Chaser

  He was exhausted. He sat at the very edge of the hotel bed. The mattress sighed into his weight as he sunk into it. He had learned long ago never to lay down on the bedspreads of these old flea bag motels since they were the last thing that ever got replaced, putting in…

Divino Afflante Spiritu

    You’ve got Those eyes Your smile issues Open invitations: The Palm sway in A Vulgate dream Come true Preach to me I want to flip through Your scripture Laugh Inappropriately Provide whatever service you need Be the hymnal you play On continuous loop Let my choir of angels sing But I’d probably just…

In The Wake of Fornever

    Make me a heaven Be the parchment moon in the daze of my days Dust me in the milky dusk of your lust Let the tinfoil gleam In the fabricated eye of night Beam luminously on us Color me pretty Build me a snow globe city Crystal clear with diamond dog collars That…

The Meter is the Message

  Should we rhyme without reason? Or reason without rhyme? Should we parse each syllable with equal weight for this crime? This crime of confining thoughts to symbols whose meaning will only diminish with time? I taste the pallor as color drains from your flesh words. Vowels that once sang their gentle rain, now fall…

Tonight

    The end came without ceremony again tonight. There were only a few of us in attendance, anyway. Just me, a hushed bay, and some seagulls scattered to scavenge for torn bits of sourdough bread from the lady who comes every twilight to ask them frankly about the government tapping her phone; wondering aloud…

In the wake of a dream…

    We were at the Wayfare Tavern down on California Street. I saw you and put my arms around you, but your waist had gotten so thin, my hands slipped to the ledge of your hips, I felt their bones and remarked on it in front of your friends, telling them with my best…