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    …

Winter Cheer

The day reaches out with sticky fingers picking all our pockets her touch is cold but her thoughts are warm this is the point in the plot for the reveal sunglasses and bullets are all I carry I use the former to conceal and the latter to steal one lifeline at a time my empty…

‘Our heads are round so thought can change direction’

A bolt of red trails A silk train on the sand. It’s strange to see a man In a tux and a woman in a ballgown on a public beach. A photographer leads them, walking Backward, his flashbulbs strobing A disco ball mesmerism. Now I’m Recording the act of recording, Smirking while the couple awkwardly…

Holly Daze

The time is now, as it’s always been. The temperature low, as it’s always seemed. She couldn’t remember when she last spread her toes on a supple green earth. She put her hands to her mouth and blew into her palms. Clouds of breath formed like angels, enfolding her. The future fell from the sky….

The Avenger

He spread his white death across my pillowcase. His mouth tasting of stale words and cold vengeance, like some men taste of cigarettes and malt liquor, but I savor his breath anyway after he kisses me and tells me he loves to hate. “Oh?” say I, “Hate and love are flip sides of the same…

Personal Jesus

    I saw an eagle catch a falcon, once. And when he landed, full and satisfied, resting on the perch of his predatory nest, I caught him and ate him. Served him up with a mango salsa and a side of pride. Tell me who your Jesus is and, I will tell you who…

Divine Lines

      There are stories under the skin but they remain hidden. They escape their captors with careful incisions. The initial cut is the shallowest, but the most painful: a toe dip to test the temperature of the water before wading in. A flinch, a drip, and the first wave of relief washes over…

I hear the secrets that you keep when you’re talking in your sleep

  Sometimes I hear music where there isn’t any. I walk down the street, a car backing up into a parallel parking spot converts into the gentle swale of a church pipe organ playing a nativity hymnal, an ambulance siren sounds the plaintive wail of Lucia di Lammermoor’s aria as she plummets to the snake…

Chorizo And Eggs (with a side of avocado)

  You could probably calibrate the master atomic clock ensemble at the U.S. Naval Observatory in Washington D.C. and provide the time standard for the entire U.S. Department of Defense by his arrival. (Although he was a naval man, the atomic clock in Denver is where my father-in-law always proudly pointed his little plastic-strapped Casio…

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….

No-Fly Zones & Zippers

I know why there are Laws and Religions Theorems and Stop Signs No-Fly Zones and Zippers… In a universe of infinite possibility, We must be bound by the thing of some, by the sum of one. Bonds… The silk tie wrapped around your wrist Knotting you to a four poster honeymoon bed Like electrons in…

The Eternal Sunset of What We Are

  “The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd – The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the…

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…