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“Missing You While You’re Here”

2 Nov

“Missing You While You’re Here”

Push too hard but in my defense

a shadow washing over you

but to defend in triplicate

as if to us great poetry

could be born one last time

but in my defense

you were here but gone

to him and him and only him

the news a tragic rope

to gun it fast I get off work at ten

and spurs blur to yellow-jackets

let unhappiness be harmed

and truly great poetry be answered

in strangers’ kisses

friends left us behind

in clouds of sugar cars

nothing could make you stay

could make you do poetry in firelight

don’t talk for a century

don’t talk in poetry

mistaken you:

you’re not gone.

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Review: Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami

27 Oct

Wells are for bells, swift slices, gory paintings, tunnels to everywhere, forgotten footsteps, enchanted afternoons, impeccable burglaries, locked in the locket of house’s owls, sultry sketches, devious daydreams, disappearing drives, lawful indiscretions, lonely afternoons, mysterious paternity, talking to elves in the painting, the unseen sands that draft at night, the empty refrigerator, stone portraits, romantic graveyards, tea-filled tires, jaguar breaths, silk bathrobe ties, stained drawings, war crimes, famine, the soul of Bluebeard, the rags of finery, meaningless piles of money to set aflame, and spies will be your friends.         

New story (“The Basement People”) published!

28 Sep

Psyched to be part of this anthology. My tribute to Legs McNeil & Gillian McCain’s PLEASE KILL ME, Bauhaus’s BURNING FROM THE INSIDE, and…well, you get the idea…is about a sentient cloud of animal limbs! It’s called “The Basement People.” It is available here (at Clash Books) or here (at Amazon).

“Who Among the Best of Us”

27 Sep

“Who Among the Best of Us”

Who among your classmates

will last past this second breathe

board a chivalrous route

give to burns the right amount of panache

the salve of the blank window stare

in dressings

who among you wrests this laurel

past the breakers

the foggy ghost arms

pulled in a ship by her teeth

who among the least of us

tired of dartboards, seal cries

the horn that separates rain from trees

and every tear a cuff link

who among the crows

pack quills for the winter

and beaks of lost sisters

who among the bird bones

breathes so precious a whispered star

who among the mazes for us

who will in feather

panic the air.

“Curl Around this Mountain”

21 Sep

“Curl Around this Mountain”

You won the swamp sweepstakes

and your rattle-born tail

twists ‘round this mountain

the road to a rodeo

points to a checkerboard past

let’s circle us for hours

wherever we wandered to be poets

I promise (I do)

to spot us

a farther lake

we’d never reach

to kiss you complete

awash in a dark wooded bar

awake in a dark wooded hour

as if stun guns from childhood

as if monstrous teeth

and the cold morsels of minnows

of sickening heres, dispiriting dominos

ravens to clutch your pendants

and every rose an eyebrow brush

the hairy stairs

leading to nowhere of my desperate hour

sit down and sip through the pantry

and backwards jump

the ever-fading castle

the romance breaths

on the moon tops to mope

sandalwood and smoke

the rotten cherry to rise

crystal calls of dinosaur men.

“Wait for the World”

25 Aug

“Wait for the World”

You got weighted against the world

and you won

your lips

denied a lungful of leaf

and your skeletal stomach

fulfilled of rose petals

made an evening tree truce

with cornered chalkboards

of your every thought

through the pain of windows

a scratch for the pricker bush

who’s laughing at shadows

in the merry-go-round woods

of wooded puppets

sharing brigadier of bridegroom

with turmeric and salt

of bread-won cut wounds

and shredded gloves,

hairpins of an eerie robber father

whose silhouette a fountain casts,

shreds rocks from crystals

and an apparition burned

in twilight marks

for every woolen doll

our sheets made

of strawberry skins

and petticoats, the lavender nightshade

coats goblins between us

where the toboggan belongs

to the toad king,

carved in the wardrobe:

for sacred wood outlives

the passing flesh.

“Your Wedding Day”

11 Jun

“Your Wedding Day”

My best friend’s a jockey

my other friend’s in a noose

let’s dance away the sunset

your wedding.

The desert starts to waver

my skull and a cross

in a necklace I gather

forever to be lost

your wedding.

Miss ill for your troubles

to gather this mass

the white tulip opens

your wedding day.

They’ll be here in an hour

your body’s in flames

your heart’s cut to pieces

your wedding.

Your hair is lighting

a candelabra

tomorrow is done

for your wedding.

Off-course by his branches

through trees and his weeds

the candlelit gazebo

your wedding day.

Punished of course

and dread fills each second

to lumber encroaching

I can’t come

your wedding.

Arrived early

this bell and glass hands

your love fills this horse

to dig up the souls and lost hands

your wedding.

Princesses and princes

to punish this land

rub one on gravestones

across this clearing of years

veils ashamed

of your wedding day.

Beneath a poplar the popular pastimes

and all is borrowed

four leaves for wine

birthmarks and freckles

beneath lonely and fallen

your wedding.

Interview with me at Silent Motorist Media

5 Jun

I had a lot of fun talking with Justin Burnett about literature, comics, pulp, David Foster Wallace, Psychedelic Horror Press, social media personality schisms, Elizabeth von Dracula, Elizabeth von Dracula’s dentures, and Elizabeth von Dracula’s turnips stitched to human heads in her moonlit garden. Seriously though, check out this thoughtful and imaginative gent’s beautifully designed blog filled with thoughtful and unique posts.

Check it out here.

The Network People by Bob Freville

26 May

The project of illustrating this book haunted my life for the last year, yet when I emerged from its netherworld, the pictures were like a bouquet of blooming horreurs and the stories themselves were nightmarish visions, coiled around the arms of worms and snakes. Apparently, it has been unleashed into this world today.

“This Reflection Casts a Shadow”

25 May

“This Reflection Casts a Shadow”

You never told me

about the raccoons living here

or your marital highways

as the raccoon in the suit

is upstairs waiting for me

to light this gas and fade away

brilliant sunshine from all radiators

never a flame forever

we play our part, our favorite roles

I’m moving away

I’m not that sort of person anymore

who can move with a place

this diet of lasting years

leaves me tethered to a tiger’s tongue

wandering through the fields

the zeal of tundras

and ravens at my back

I’d clear my name

in the flexing eyes of crossbows

hawks wear leather bags

because this crossroad

and dye our darlings

and all the memories cold reptile toes

and blue show me a guide to mend garden crawling up our beds

the rain is a pelt, happy to be worn

and your wild eyes through the years

this is the poison part

with all they glided over lilies.