Sunday, November 16, 2014


I am a bulb
Slid from the body
Numb with ease
Hedonist headlong

Unshackled from my me
I am writing
I am black and blue so
I am writing so that
I will survive pointlessness

Smiling and bowing
Grimacing and ecstatic
Bent over beside the electric sun’s
Cocaine white light
In a moment
I’m lying
Thinking about the
Lake and hopelessly full

Monday, November 10, 2014

Hanging Rock

I am going to open your mouth in a second. Open it at the throat, finger on the apple. Don't hang on. And dive. These bodies are our guns. Your tender heart so reckless in the heat. Waking when asleep.

If we see carefully we can taste everything breathing. Swallow hot stars put on our tongues and then we are speaking. Savory snare – the blue morning at four and you say the three to me. Your stomach is warm.

And my chest is luminous. The golden hour glow is rolling over our little bodies swaying on the side of the void. Gasp and stare back at me. Grasp and come down with me. I can’t lose you in this dark.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014


we go to tell you about the pinprick of an asylum dream
we love others
over difficult

thus we hate ourselves
and choke
hand over the womb
contracted gasping

we are chimneys
we will get on empty and alien
soot incurable
inhale inhale inhale
below influence
out out out
and above it
the exit is this way

we are one person one day and many people the next
we daughters will always disappoint
will eat your hypocrite
for beating us into dehydrated silence but

soon we become mute

Saturday, October 4, 2014


bare Walls that nothing but five letters will stick to
heartbeat clatters
mouth on a rhythmic inhale
Soul of the bare body pinches free
slides away
don’t You yelp

little sleepy eyes peeping through black Shutters
discovered Her dead but somehow
can’t find the body parts
under words penned down to pin Her in
the baby Room is just thumbtacks little dots of red and strange lines
She used to know Her way around the tight curls of this fine House

Skeleton slips at right angles over
this Spirit Who is rearranging Her ribs for Sunday dinner
two of them missing
weepy at the dumb in-between

a stateless place on the inside                      
aches nameless
scares Her that She reaches out
in a frenetic familiar way
without remembering why
and the One looking out whispers bitter
We will get on empty
don’t search for the soft spot
don’t You dare call out

Friday, September 26, 2014


Mean makes the poem lurch.
Jerks on.
Blunt and light.
Only eyelashes at the start of poetics.
Hoof in the mouth.

Poem holds both bare hands.
Having picked a crop when the sun was edgeless, your noun cut.
Truth to a point on the wobbling sphere.

Poem splits legs sits on lie.
Round-about repentant.
Taste buds all smoke and sweet cake.

Heart in verb travels.
This word blueberry vibes tender.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014


tracing the t in truth on my wrist
your finger
the very slight shifts in the tectonic plates of our bodies
grounded like
the death of signifying
I’ll take off my skin and you hold half of yours over and against
let me have my cake and eat it too
a smoke ring dissipates
the thought
lend me your rose colored glasses
like watching the day in reverse
optimistic pessimism
to see the shades glow blue at 6am is
highway hypnosis
speeding Judas
summer sand garb and spring fever fell
sifting through the corners of your mind and all those books you read and remember
tell me a new thing
I’m feeling that
inhale on the ocean



broken arms
bent on strangling
vines both coming from and going to the heart

move out to both ends from the middle
creep up
cross over

holds to itself

alien around the blanched body
vessel holds veins
sepia tense to itself
to myself