Thursday, January 8, 2015

In His Stomach it Grows

In the blue light of morning
In the golden light of afternoon
In the lavender light of twilight
In the plum sky and dumpling white moonlight of night

I see thee
I see thee
I see thee

He took a bite from
The girl who must be swallowed whole

She knows
She knows
She knows

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Technically, dead

Eating warm peaches
Atop the fresh spring lawn
A whirling sprinkler dousing
A halo of crocus ‘round the Bradford pear tree
Bare feet combing the wet grass
Distant cry of the wind chime
Lazy teller of time—not urging in its tone,
But softly nodding
In harmonic compliment
With the hum of bumblebees wings;
I turn my computer on
Like a low flying bird into the grill of my car.

Thursday, May 29, 2014


Melted metal stare
Center of the Earth;

The Sun slows
To a honey glaze;
Surrendering to
A greater pull;

Light sliced
Through venetian blinds
Striping the bedroom walls
In amber and
Moving shadows;

Heals the day and
You stay.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Two Rocks in the Stream

Two rocks in the stream
Stop being so sweet to me
Minerals eroding into the water; whats yours is yours; and the animals is ours;
Cooking and cleaning; Dusting, and kissing
Kissing in the stream
Branches sweep the surface; ripples
Two rocks in the stream
Jagged edges smoothed;
Over time; Always
One way only
Into the water

Monday, May 5, 2014


A hotspot
Smaller than a dime 
On the edge of a spine of a dog left alone
In the apartment too long, grows to quarter size
When he gnaws at his infected tail.
When there is no owner there to yell at him 
To stop. Instead the silence feeds his anxiety;
And bowels raw, emptied on carpet,
On eggshell walls, in a paranoid frenzy, he will
Eat his own skin, until the sting from the open sore
Becomes numb.

Everywhere I see mirrors to avoid eye contact with—except the one
objectively accurate. They will tell me which one—Naked,
Jumping, nervously when I accidentally
Expose broken skin, and the chamber of echoes inside my chest.

Monday, April 7, 2014


Steam curling
Up from the kettle spout;
Around a portrait of the pourer
In early morning; clear and dark.
Red rim of the cup frames 
A change in its reflection;
Cream sprawling in
Black tea that’s steeped too long—
Inverted inkblot painting 
Of unnatural agriculture; 
Product of economy—
With no resistance
From the perfumed and perfect
Ancient leaves; earthy specks
That dance in white clouds like
Delicate wingless insects,
Unfurling and 
Unfolding, ceremoniously 
Swirling, impartially
In the thick, fatty

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Freedom of Forfeiture; Lightens the Soul and Enhances Wi-Fi Connection

Surviving on a pro-longed sentence
And paying 
Penance in pocket change 
To repair some wrong-doing, 
Wrought with freedom,
And the painstaking task
Of untying knots, and unlocking
A precious lesson sought, 
In each maneuver
But we cannot
Live forever,
On a diet of kicks and chocolate
Fast food snacks, and 
Televised road trips
But let me have this temporary fix,
Feeling the fine hairs
On the edge of your neck 
Prickle up
Against my finger tips
And sparkling
In the light
Of another day spent
Whatever it is
That bends the knees of our dreams
Which grow humbler 
By each nick
Carved in the plastic 
Shellacked furniture we recycle from
Others like us.

On the plexi-particle board bed,  
I curl my knees to my chest
Tilting the tip of my vertebrae,
Like a cat, until the curve of
My back 
Arcs up 
To touch the belly of the Sunday moon
Whose blue light blinks midnight
And wraps around me
(And you)
Like an ethereal diving bell;
Heavy as our minds, 
And the story it tells
Of a time existing 
In the far future;
Though an arm and lash
Presently remain,
We strain and divide every moment
Into here and
The Somewhere Else, we always 
Envision ourselves.