Modern Metaphor
Like death craves infants,
So you loved me,
Devouring the sinless life,
Feasting any purity.
You whispered prayers into my hair,
You anointed my back with milk.
You dripped honey kisses into
my ceramic mouth, a steaming teacup.
A hollow funerary urn
suddenly poured over
with moonlight and soap.
My frail, ivory bones
Cried out to praise the running night.
Then the broken market
ignited our newspaper vows
And tortured them like original souls
damned to the caves of Hell,
Foreclosing our hopes
To the hungry crowds.
The empty rooms black with mildew,
The empty roads stinking with mold.
Growling you ate the
seashore from my heart
like the stuffing from a fat pillow.
All is lost.
All our powers have rotted
into the dry earth,
Fertilizing foolish fields,
And nourishing
The bitterness of poets.
Yeast Rising
My unfortune follows me-
Your eyes make me honest.
I'm like a hooked fish
that doesn't even writhe.
I'm sabotaging my own sanity,
because my eyes are clear water
to my red guts glowing.
Your slow perfect kiss
sanctifies my pain.
I am coming home
With a suitcase and a shrug
and overwhelming gratitude.
The days and days empty of you,
without drama,
without anything.
Eating dinner was like closing my eyes
And biting an empty fork.
Sometimes a distant echo in the hollow night
of a woman's scream,
Jumping awake in a sweat.
On the drive back,
I looked in the rearview mirror
and watched little hopes rising
like yeast in the sun.
I smiled and knew peace.
A Fisherman
Our mouths collide for three holy minutes,
we pause to look, a pregnant pause;
Our pupils dilate
and he pushes his finger into my arm and looks at me like oh shit.
His eyes bid adieu, traveling to his finger, which is now exposed in the air, wrapped in a thousand threads of black spider silk.
His open pupils plunge back into mine,
and a feeling or two wraps behind our backs, taping and winding our bodies together... we are one spinning spool.
He is shy as sea shells I must ease open with October oil.
Then generously he feeds me pearl pills
on spoons sounding silver as bells.
Tears leak,
not salty but sweet,
shocking sugar drips.
Briefly I want to sing but I have been thrusted into an intensity where songs are below and impossible.
So I scream like coffee cups breaking, a kettle's white whistle,
when two peppermints explode between my legs
and a feeling or two so tightly squeezing our spool
Relax.
Cling.
Tangle.
The Past is Here
Adding Up
Like death craves infants,
So you loved me,
Devouring the sinless life,
Feasting any purity.
You whispered prayers into my hair,
You anointed my back with milk.
You dripped honey kisses into
my ceramic mouth, a steaming teacup.
A hollow funerary urn
suddenly poured over
with moonlight and soap.
My frail, ivory bones
Cried out to praise the running night.
Then the broken market
ignited our newspaper vows
And tortured them like original souls
damned to the caves of Hell,
Foreclosing our hopes
To the hungry crowds.
The empty rooms black with mildew,
The empty roads stinking with mold.
Growling you ate the
seashore from my heart
like the stuffing from a fat pillow.
All is lost.
All our powers have rotted
into the dry earth,
Fertilizing foolish fields,
And nourishing
The bitterness of poets.
Yeast Rising
My unfortune follows me-
Your eyes make me honest.
I'm like a hooked fish
that doesn't even writhe.
I'm sabotaging my own sanity,
because my eyes are clear water
to my red guts glowing.
Your slow perfect kiss
sanctifies my pain.
I am coming home
With a suitcase and a shrug
and overwhelming gratitude.
The days and days empty of you,
without drama,
without anything.
Eating dinner was like closing my eyes
And biting an empty fork.
Sometimes a distant echo in the hollow night
of a woman's scream,
Jumping awake in a sweat.
On the drive back,
I looked in the rearview mirror
and watched little hopes rising
like yeast in the sun.
I smiled and knew peace.
A Fisherman
Our mouths collide for three holy minutes,
we pause to look, a pregnant pause;
Our pupils dilate
and he pushes his finger into my arm and looks at me like oh shit.
His eyes bid adieu, traveling to his finger, which is now exposed in the air, wrapped in a thousand threads of black spider silk.
His open pupils plunge back into mine,
and a feeling or two wraps behind our backs, taping and winding our bodies together... we are one spinning spool.
He is shy as sea shells I must ease open with October oil.
Then generously he feeds me pearl pills
on spoons sounding silver as bells.
Tears leak,
not salty but sweet,
shocking sugar drips.
Briefly I want to sing but I have been thrusted into an intensity where songs are below and impossible.
So I scream like coffee cups breaking, a kettle's white whistle,
when two peppermints explode between my legs
and a feeling or two so tightly squeezing our spool
Relax.
Cling.
Tangle.
The Past is Here
His lips slow dance beneath mine and the underside of my skin slips into red silk, a feeling as sleek as night. I trade him slick glances, my eyes flick up and penetrate. He fumbles words, says my eyes pierce through him, that I can see his soul. He swells like an orange balloon, but keeps quiet, a sting of nerves. His light conversation is soothing; his breath in my room feels like sleeping on velvet indigo. He is my antonym. He is warm peace, a constant figure; I am brewing black clouds. His gorgeous teeth shock me in glimpses; squares the color of whole milk, like shining snow they tease me... I want that mouth all over me. I feel like a shaken Sprite can, tension pushing every tin edge.
I never knew I would like him.
New and old are indistinguishable blends.
I never knew I would like him.
New and old are indistinguishable blends.
Adding Up
I walked out of your ear
with a jut and a flit of my hips.
A vapor fairy materialized
into wanting eyes
and pungent perfume,
inside a glass box
your nose smashes into.
But your eyelids meet,
they close
as you do not inhale.
Disoriented in mid-air dreams.
What kind of life is lived between your ears?
Eyeballs cranked backwards,
in love with backwardness,
but i wonder in front of your feet like small violets.
I have shifted.
I have reality now.
Estoy aqui.
I am more than a muse-
I exceed roles.
I am pounds.
My name is me.
If what floats and rushes
behind your eyes are negative numbers
then they are too heavy for me to pull out.
They are too smart for my spells,
too stubborn for my brew.
Only only you-
can shuffle their ashes
and add yourself up
and up and up and up;
Let lashes kiss:
Close your eyes
let the elevator rise
floor pushing up your feet,
glass cracking my virginity.
You suck deep air:
It's pouring feathers
with a jut and a flit of my hips.
A vapor fairy materialized
into wanting eyes
and pungent perfume,
inside a glass box
your nose smashes into.
But your eyelids meet,
they close
as you do not inhale.
Disoriented in mid-air dreams.
What kind of life is lived between your ears?
Eyeballs cranked backwards,
in love with backwardness,
but i wonder in front of your feet like small violets.
I have shifted.
I have reality now.
Estoy aqui.
I am more than a muse-
I exceed roles.
I am pounds.
My name is me.
If what floats and rushes
behind your eyes are negative numbers
then they are too heavy for me to pull out.
They are too smart for my spells,
too stubborn for my brew.
Only only you-
can shuffle their ashes
and add yourself up
and up and up and up;
Let lashes kiss:
Close your eyes
let the elevator rise
floor pushing up your feet,
glass cracking my virginity.
You suck deep air:
It's pouring feathers
Your lips impress my shoulder,
My skin squeals slightly.
Our banging hearts collide
And little red sequins spread into the air
like dazzling confetti.
One gaping hole emerges: a yellow injury.
Mostly, we ignore it.
But every now and then
a hollow yelp escapes
and reminds us of
the aching mattress.
Our blood punching through our roots,
Squirting the ground with angry longing.
I give up.
You bend a knee to
my bracelet of halos.
(How natural)
I open your mouth with red skittles.
I whisper on your neck, "You're lying,"
And your happy puzzle breaks to pieces
All over again.
My skin squeals slightly.
Our banging hearts collide
And little red sequins spread into the air
like dazzling confetti.
One gaping hole emerges: a yellow injury.
Mostly, we ignore it.
But every now and then
a hollow yelp escapes
and reminds us of
the aching mattress.
Our blood punching through our roots,
Squirting the ground with angry longing.
I give up.
You bend a knee to
my bracelet of halos.
(How natural)
I open your mouth with red skittles.
I whisper on your neck, "You're lying,"
And your happy puzzle breaks to pieces
All over again.
Skinny Steel
There you are
skinny steel building.
my vulnerable knobs
vibrations in my veins.
I am clumsy wood, thin nails,
how i could collapse to ruins.
I could slap my hands
in front of your feet
Starving mad woman.
my knees all red and bumpy
from the silver pavement.
Your metal glitters-
you are brilliant to be so shiny.
The grass comes up to my waist.
the worms enjoy
and you dont even look down.
even look.
even look.
Dirt climbs into my mouth
but you wouldn't hear me anyway.
Calmly, quietly. I allow it.
Defeat has never been so stunning.
Perhaps one day far from now
a curious person will dig up my bones
and rock them like a baby.
Homes
Baby bottles cradle rum.
I am unsurprised,
or maybe that is numbness,
still unaware morbidly.
Spiders yawn in the fireplace
the candles cold as arctic rocks.
Why do i love to watch them-
The white walls
The sopping towels
The fan petals
twirling round and round
a plain hum.
The dog snoring
The washing machine
fucking a load of laundry.
Bathroom tiles prickling my skin bumpy.
my mind zips a suitcase
but i am paused like a gravestone
staring ahead.
i cant even squeeze out
one warm tear.
The white counters are a blue shiver.
waiting waiting waiting
To stop.
October
i want to plug you into my thighs
let the energy crash and smash
and splinter our ribs.
Escape in a balloon-filled sigh.
your finger walks down my throat
and pulls out a bald light bulb.
you pump my bones with inward stares.
your words are erasing my skin
you peel me open as an orange
my blood is clapping.
Aqua tulips rise out of my pavement.
you plunder my urban wilderness.
we are giants grown thin on twirling,
tall on eating the life out of things.
creaking hinges
pumpkin carcasses
appear on my bed.
sharp fingernail clippings puncture
soft white foot flesh,
and i remember now.
Beauty walking like a dead animal
pain roams every aftermath.
i know this.
i trace the edge of the jungle
with awkward footsteps.
The trees are snarling.
They dare me.
Wander
The doorknob's brass eye
keeps piercing my thoughts
ringing my ears like a soft spoken doorbell.
Shiny that almost gold reflectiveness
and bleary with too many signs of fingers.
A black line stretches wide like a rubber band
creaking open its big mouth.
Whispers swarm on my pillow,
gossip buzzes of blue electrical spheres
dug up from our bellies,
of how we silently roar
with transcendent holiness.
A clean page of white snow soars on
for many freezing miles
and its puzzling blankness cries out
for my pink little toenails.
I wait with shaky hands,
wanting my steps to be clever as a cat's,
as precise.
And yet to roam stupidly in wide open unknowns
pulls with wonderful appeal.
Clown Horses
Opaque answers
stir my mind wild.
I collect weeping
in brown bottles.
I chug it.
I toss back shots.
Cruel crisp questions.
I smoke flowers:
they curl, they crumble.
I roll your photos, I smoke them.
I come to you in the night.
I wander aimlessly inside your skull,
an elegant ghost.
In my sleepy tossing
your mouth misses me till morning.
No light, I whisper, exhausted.
your wicked teeth upturned.
I fight back with weak hate
Thin love.
Your cheer mocks me.
I am wired with insanity
for love.
Doomed days ahead.
I defy you
deceptive stars...
Your shine is burning
holes in my white dress.
Tea Candles
my fingertips read your eyes like Russian
delicate spy slow and careful
sultry silence
staring into the eyes of war
mouths morphing
one smooth shadow dips into a dance
piano playing
behind your teeth
glass tea candles flicker accidentally
in the teasing corner
i leave.
i crunch candles under my boots
i latch the muscular door
calm as a mausoleum
suddenly it appears ajar
keeps creeping open
to scare the fuck out of me
cavernous and spilling with darkness
distant violin singing in tongues of angels
a terrifying, intoxicating siren
scent of wet tulips
seeping through the edges
smell sticking to my skin
burns my eyes and swollen throat
It punctures my resolve.
If it sucks me in again
If it sucks me in again
My Grave
Elegant ghost, my aberration
Makes a cool bed inside your skull.
White skin, pale as enchanted death.
Black eyes empty as two holes.
This is the icy price, love.
It is only fair.
How you torment me with absence.
I am not leaving.
When you sleep I am smoke
Exiting your nose.
It is the only way to confront.
In morning, I am a slave
Corked inside your head.
Two ears: front and back door.
How could you not hear me leave?
Madness? No, genius!
It is allowed. I am only air.
