Tag Archives: poem

“Straying to Exist”

19 Jan

“Straying to Exist”

We battle

our serving selves.

The stone birds

‘neath cemetery gates


wounded roses,

blue teeth,

ghost thistles.

Dead candy,

press flowers between your sacred books.

Innocuous heartthrob,

lift his head above the bog

on riverfront thrones.


“Seasons of Dread”

18 Jan

“Seasons of Dread”

Express the phantom.

Knead yourself. Right there.

Do memories of rivers open now?

Or are we still discussing the usual waterfall?

Crème brûlée, as long as the spigots are open.

Creme blue,

the gases released.

There must be another doorway.

Sit still in a dark room.

Stare at a blank wall.

In time, the colors change.

Relax to tangle your thoughts.

Enter another doorway.

Another doorway grows still.

Mold grows on the trim of another.

Are we still discussing this?

Please finish.

Lock the deadbolt.

Pull down the chains.

Let the chairs drop.

Massage the chopping block.

It’s time to give the seasons

to the hungry scarecrow.

He’s starved souls.

He lights the tails of devils

to smoke firecrackers

while dancing on the roof

until morning.

Express the problem,

but it doesn’t make you feel better.

It only lasts as long as a cigarette.

Find me in the hallway.

This museum is too beautiful

in the dollhouse.

I’m in love with the drapes,


everything surrounding me

in your absence.

Abscesses throb on the walls.

Did you expect to release

the phosphorescent streets?

They release you into a rubber room

to tell you that you haven’t been listening,

you can’t survive,

there’s no choice but to relax

the gun muscle

and muzzles know barbwire flowers

because bliss is an acid train

because the beating wings tunneling

of a moth in distress

we’ll die covered in dust

but glue could put us back together.

We need repairs

worse than your favorite toy.

We need to outlast the batteries.

Our town has grown too artificially hot.

The masks no longer fit

to disguise us.

The attraction to the rubber animals

has worn off.

Tails of eels spell your name

in endless circles

spiraling back

a beckoning frost touch.

“In This Our Life”

17 Jan

“In This Our Life”

Eggs break in nests

in beaks of rain

and in this slipper

I run right past your


of broken bones corrected

a triple digit

helmet filled with live bees

he cracked up,

his laughter dripping

while wearing rented suits in rented cars

the cuff-links bit back

high whistled at the top

train driven off the rails

by cotton-tailed

roller coaster souls

following dusty tracks

to where mountains meet the moon

in an artificial paradise

in the rye,

but it was supposed to be a change

and your hair was a lie.

“Dangerous Cyber Liquids”

16 Jan

“Dangerous Cyber Liquids”

Please play this game with us

our existence outweighs itself

our planes are plaintive

in their reality destructions

of personality fuel tremors

you thought we were liquid friends

but liars never roam

and spiders crawl away

with the crocodile growth on your back.

“Grave Visitations”

16 Jan

“Grave Visitations”

To have known

as long as your youth

to crave an icy crush.

To have known

longer than your past

means to intersect the spider.

I know sewing guilt

I envy your weightless compartment

and though I lay silent

in the red shadow of a neon sign

play on my firelight and sill:

family makes you weak enough to kill.

“I Write to Run”

14 Jan

“I Write to Run”

Let’s write for five hundred mirrors

to run faster than reflection

calling canaries to funerals

rain to the steaming geysers

to see ghosts at last through slick asphalt

an alligator forest

unwell in the box spring

maybe happiness will be whittling

up late staring at the fireplace

bone broth the color of human bones

a bandaged stranger

offers the horns of a boot

a way to fly to the roof of a high rise

a high tide of fish bones

the woman weeps

in shuttered rooms

it’s too late

she’s in your skin

birch bark through which the woman spoke in creaking

we met in the midnight velvet

through your skinny fingers

the cold be banished

from our igloo warmth

lonely mice in cabbage cottages

the knifed sheets

the cheetah chances

the cancellation of cougars

sucked hot through the interior leather

of masks, helmets, midnight indiscretions

zephyrs pant the gabled widow.


13 Jan


Go back to your basement

where nothing evolved

sink back down into brackish waters

warn your evil daughters

and everywhere I revolve will lead

right back out again

to the same dreaded circus

the rodent hole, the chapped jeans

sent to an anonymous vampire

with moon dust on his pointy shoes

a crotch full of lead

crouching flowers

wolf rain, the man made of murder leather

wakes to wait, holding his flame

neath your chin

my memory of you

as a mummy in the desert

since you have no money

put your heart in a cage

address it to a speculator toucan.

“Lifeline Rapport”

12 Jan

“Lifeline Rapport”

It was us against the world

and we lost

kittens in the strawberry patch

pressing a cold beer bottle

to your forehead wound

we walked hand in hand

through the sunset on the shore

kissed all night

our desired engines fastened

to the lapping of the waves

patterns in the sky tell you future designs

deciding on a world

to tie the chains to

healing an android.

“Roasted Suits”

11 Jan

“Roasted Suits”

I hardly care at all

your innocent sunshine,

feckless pigeons

when a cold night blows

you feel the cuts and welts

in every hiccup

a fear of life

eyes in a bubbling stream

while rabbits stained with blue powders

dive for sunken treasure

the tattooed map undulates

on the skin of the drowned giantess

mice rush down the city streets

and no one can hear their scratch

the three-headed duke

plays with bones

less the bedsheets be spread

and all wounded tomorrows

try to keep a chin up

through cracked windshields,

lowering the frosty buckets

terror-filled life why did we come

if your body is a halo

for expired exaltations

the like of which are crowned

with raven feathers, hand spices,

and the delinquent energy

so often admired.

We’re trying to make the best of things

till we’re really not here at all

in a vicious wind

to collect our mittens back.

“Shadow Blanket”

10 Jan

“Shadow Blanket”

Who is that horrible man?

He’s my best friend.

He used to throw parties

across the scream

between the lungs

blind banks, directionless flowers

the parchment for the deed

sick as the wick,

treacle lazy man river’s locks.

You don’t care about anyone.

You’re a drug addicted to a drug

of the purple storm clouds

of the hail flesh, harebrain triggers

dynamo icicle gateways

ladyblood neck braces

leach swans on an autumn lake.

We sit at the dinner table in the dark

and eat insects

forever the rays absorb

your generation pushed aside,

the brief eclipse

fell off the picking wagon

to the catacomb of cannibals

police cars sing in the distance

however fragile the eggs we protect

control our minds

terrible instincts bitten by sharks

sharpened by religious holidays

when you rocked in the attic

outlasting space travelers

who brought you dancing flowers,

cyclones of mist,

though I lie awake, sister,

when roots

cover the true faces of the birds

the human faces

velvet collusion and veils

we hang glide above the treetops

dusting our frost cantaloupe

to gallop the ruins

of our stereo

made up life

you were the king and the queen

stars sweating your thighs.