Archangel
Once, within my hearing, and thinking himself alone, he said I wish I were dead. And I didn’t man up to that. I god damn kept my hands in my … Continue Reading Archangel
In olden times
~I remember me. How I looked to books as if they were to be my next meal. How I bought brushes, special pencils and a book of right paper, still … Continue Reading In olden times
At the beach, in morning fog
At water’s edge I plied the sand for vacant shells and stones to skip, so flat. There, there was a tree that had given up, acute in its angle, embarrassed … Continue Reading At the beach, in morning fog
idleness
A diving moth caught in venetian rays, like a bedside meteor. In soreness of spirit, I chew on thoughts of old romancers, closet dancers.
This feels wrong
A recent change of heart. A looming change of mind. An anxious left-handed day.
By design
What is here,by design,is umbilical to me.This feed of lifeand blood of red.But now,instead,a sorry headthinks of strifeand the future of a knife.
Everything, and the kitchen sink
* Mental health triggers, suicidal ideation* God. You know, I’m just washing dishes, feeling useful and kind of self-satisfied. Haven’t dropped anything or cut myself, even though the bothersome cat … Continue Reading Everything, and the kitchen sink
Someday, your prince will come
I would make you smile but I can’t You want me to smile but I can’t Moods change in increments One step forward two back There’s another can’t- It’s the … Continue Reading Someday, your prince will come
Breakdown
I speak in tonguessometimes.Surely at night,in deep sleep,but now, of late,in broad day.Not literally, of course,or they’d send me to the bin.It started with watery voices,the makers of dream.We argued, … Continue Reading Breakdown
Shortcuts
Make cuts carefully, in concealable places, so as not to be known as an attention whore. Bundled in fives, as at Shawshank. You and I know that it’s better than … Continue Reading Shortcuts
Foreigners
If you would, talk some sense into me. Or, just talk some sense. I am in short supply, you see. I have broad and muscled shoulders from clenching the etched-in … Continue Reading Foreigners
Quakers
I know why you couldn’t shave anymoreI used to think that you couldbut needed to be touchedI think, now, that something told you“What’s the use?”and you agreedand your hands and … Continue Reading Quakers
Madmen
Pain spreads into virgin veins and newly thought-of branches. An insistent fist, twisted and knuckle-pressed into the backs of us. We have looked, dry-eyed, into the dark drear, contriving a … Continue Reading Madmen
That’s the spirit
There’s no one to adore it. Too hard-shelled and prickly, I guess. Transgressions bought and paid for. Still, there are soft surfaces of want. In the shower, (hotter, hotter), there’s … Continue Reading That’s the spirit
the weight of the world
Just beyond piled-up banks of dirty snow, stick trees, made of disease, voice their last testaments, mournful and forlorn. And so we walk, pushing shins and shoes forward, keeping music’s … Continue Reading the weight of the world
The spoiler
It’s all out of tune now, notes melting into minor keys, fifths, diminished. Down they go, as if dribbling south on cold glass. Sweated, unredeemable.
