yes, I say, sing your
song of normal, and tell
that to the young
woman, small and
narrow, almost fragile

with the red x marks
drawn across her pale
white skin

who’s afraid to tell
because you might run
away, and all she needs
is someone to be there
in the dark lonely hours
of the night, when
all of the tiny voices

gain strength and learn
power over you

when everything inside
you cries to be released
to see the light of day
to be judged and found
forgiven

and the night cries
a low long howl, a
train across the tracks
in the dark shadow of
earth

and we laugh and cry
and I fall
and I fall
and I fall

and all the world spins
like a top on the grimy kitchen
floor, tracing spirals through
dusty time as I sink
through the hours
of another night spent

it comes in waves of
ecstasy and awe and
I remember so clearly
every tiny quiver of
my restless heart
beating belligerently
against your chest
and your lips and
hands and the way
you held my face
as though it was
something to be
treasured. as though
it was something
beautiful, precious
and I wanted to
cry. because you
are so beautiful and
I, I am so human
and I know I’ll only
ruin you. ruin this
and it matters
so much that I
feel frightened as
I hold you in my arms

and i saw her eyes
drained
of their blue

blue washed away

like dirt
like love
like the tears that rinsed her eyes

robbing their azure kingdom
stealing its treasures
leaving only the pale

blue that makes you sad
sad because it longs to be more
not a pale content with its lack of saturation
a pale that cries out for color

and finding none
knows only to continue
hoping against despair

a light in the darkness
a pale blue

cold like the skin of a corpse
of a thing once living
now only a shattered fragment
of what it once was:

Beauty

all
washed away by a river of tears
unending
until the Blue had all washed away
and Life deserted those pale eyes

and their bearer
undeserving of the grief that robbed her
undeserving of the litany of Man
of Woman

of Pain

this page won’t coöperate
when I try to tell it
what it was like to sit
on the edge of such a vast abyss
with you by my side
talking, listening

I don’t think this ink can know
what it meant to me
every time I made you smile

when I lift my fingers from the keyboard
it so quickly forgets all the words
I’ve caressed into being in so many poems
this chunk of metal holds so many memories
so much of my life

the steel in my blood crying out
for the raw magnetism of the ocean
and the beauty of a pale moon on a warm horizon

and we sat together in the midst of a cloud
uncertainty and excitement made me shiver
but then there was you next to me
and I shivered a little bit less
we almost held hands for a moment
just as we got back to my car

the waves called my name
and you ran along with me
speaking to the ocean,
an old friend with many secrets,
I wanted to turn to you
to feel your face so close to mine
I wanted to gaze into your eyes
and speak your beauty
with a million tongues
I wanted to kiss you
and take your hand
but I was afraid

I know it sounds silly
but you should know
that when I can’t bring myself
to look you in the eyes
it’s only because
I’m afraid I might kiss you

but you mean so very much more
than the fact that you’re beautiful
you’re worth so much beyond
me sitting with you on this beach
rubbing your back, keeping you warm
you deserve more than these five days

I breathed deeply when we were talking
trying to take as much of the night air
my brain working double time to hold me in place
I wanted to turn to you and ask you to run with me
how far would we get, before we turned back?
before my petty fears overtook us
before the tide became too strong

I want to have strength
yet you smile, and I am weakened
you move close to me
and my defenses fall in an instant

I could just wander around
for hours or days
lost in your eyes
dreaming
wishing

but I can’t
I’m leaving
so soon

don’t read this last verse
because you told me not to be afraid

but I’m afraid that I’ll never know
what could have been
if only there was time.

Natura certo, quando lasciò l’arte
  di sí fatti animali, assai fé bene
    per tòrre tali essecutori a Marte.*


mankind, however, does not repent this sin
and continues, blindly, to forge the very tools
with which the earth will be wiped blank with fire

and with it gone, the words of Virgil, Homer, Dante
the greatest achievements of the hearts of men
undone in an instant by the greed of a few

the very earth cries out, and burns through the night
a light by which few souls are searched
although a light which, piercing and bright,
might reveal much to those who would gaze within

machines of death roll off assembly lines
and pass through the hands of many men
invariably finding their way, regrettably
into hands that will use them for their intended purpose:

the destruction of worlds.

I cry because I lost my time
and you cry because you found yours
but not where you wanted
and now it’s almost gone

the full moon grins
impishly, and mocks
you for a fool

and his smile for me
is that of an old friend
another of many less-than-noble
men who beneath his gaze
have acted lies and whispered
them in woman’s ear

and with the soft caress of laughter
my spine tingles and my hairs
stand up, ready to run
at the first sign of trouble
because if joy and terror
share the same physical response
what does that tell you
about being happy

simply this:
the first law of the universe
is that everything is always falling apart

and I sang goodbye
beneath a blood red sun
and whistled farewell
to empty halls

cicadas buzzed
goodnight

and for a moment
all was not well

but it passed
like all things under the sun
as I turned away.

as I inhale you into my mind’s eye
I allow your beauty to sting my tongue
watching with awe as you wrap yourself
around me in smoky tendrils of memory
the burning gasoline taste of your absence
accosts my senses and I turn you away
but in a moment I will desire you again
I want you to surround me completely
longing for your scent and for your touch
softer than the warm night air

burning away into ash, I assail myself
the intoxication of your image is all I need
the dazzling lights of such a lonely city
and the hidden points of fire
which the sky longs to hold
obscured by the clouds of unknowing
and doubt and fear and every second
of not hearing your voice

ascending to the rooftops
I look for you on the horizon
wondering if every mile
is just another piece of me
that you’ll never have

in my dreams I am sprinting
through canyons deep and narrow
every crevice and cliff
a wrinkle in the face of glory
and as I fall, I weigh nothing
until the iron taste of blood wakes me

I am enveloped by a preoccupation
with your image, seared, burning like a torch
bright light amongst the darkness
feeling it flow in and through me
rushing out into the night air
a silent ghost; beauty that soon drifts away
your face disappearing into nothingness

the air is cold
with the bitter
taste of chalk
and smoky smell
of chilled atmosphere
harsh Winter’s grip
not yet relinquished

your breath, defiant,
rushes into the world
nature’s still majesty
interrupted by clouds
the warmth of you
mocks the cold
of the sunless afternoon

I gaze into eyes that
rival the beauty
of the frigid blue sky
and my cheeks redden
with the sincerity
of my love for you

and death’s jealousy
is evident through
his vicious attacks
against

your body may break
but your soul is strong
and his power has no strength
against the Life within you

the idea of you
floats across my mind
like a dust mote
on a sunny day
drifting through the air
carelessly
unhurried
and every time I grasp for it
it swirls just out of reach
and this vision taunts me
your face hovering
so close, but infinitely
unreachable
because you, my love,
aren’t here

the hardest part
of waking up
without you

is not the cold
nor the emptiness
or the absence
of your angelic scent

it’s just that
the simple knowledge
that two thousand miles
is actually enough
to pull my hands from
your skin, and separate
my lips from yours
is difficult to endure

missing you isn’t so bad
it’s not coming back to you
that keeps me hurting
when I hear your voice
and my heart leaps, in vain

I think you visited me
in my dreams, because
when I woke I found
your scent in the air,
the familiarity of it
stinging my nostrils
and eyes.

in an old house
on the floor
that moves
breathing with
the life of its
inhabitants

in an old house
on the floor
that whispers
silent secrets upon
deaf ears

in an old house
on the floor
that sees so much
pain
and the bottoms
of our soles

in an old house
on the floor
where gravity works
a little better
after 90 years of practice

in an old house
on the floor
listen carefully
you can hear the
trains rushing
over their tracks

in an old house
on the floor
I’m surprised
by the sound of
my heart

in an old house
on the ceiling
there’s a stain
where all the life
bleeds out of
my bathtub.

"who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty
incantations which in the yellow morning were
stanzas of gibberish,"
            --Allen Ginsberg, "Howl"

I scream into the night
or perhaps I
howl, knowing nothing save
that I am, because I feel
which is, ignoring philosophies
of nothingness, enough for me

I am, scientist, poet, eater,
drinker, knower, lover
thinker
thinking
not knowing, but
believing

in laughter, a curse because
it is strong, sounds corrupt
as it curls away from my bitter tongue
like the smoke from a fire
that burned uncontrollably
through the night and in the morning
we awoke to the ash

consuming poison knowing
hoping that we may see
what our healthy, clear minds cannot
a world in which we comfortably
belong, can say “home”
and mean it wherever we stand

from your house at R’lyeh*, in
your tomb forever ensconceed
your laughter echoes and sours
the night which I call home
a gentle scorn upon my past
apocolyptic loves
destroying (or *******)
reason and care

the sober-now mind
completes the thoughts
of my past abstractions
calling me ever back
to the nights in which I was built

push

hard
and fast and

the tiny drop of
nausea in the pit
of my stomach

as I close my eyes
the world spins around
me, and I stay
still

completely unmoved
by my surroundings
completely without
emotion, lifeless
for a moment

and as the world
rushes back into me
like a cold wind
the familiar shiver
descends my spine
and the awe
of being
overwhelms me

again.

I, as in a dream
saw destruction fall
on cities, on homes,
spreading out across the waters

and I choked with fear
at the destruction of worlds

as death spread out
over the waves
I was surprised to find
that the water was not,
as I had imagined,
that of the ocean,
but only my tub
filled with water
ripples from a leaky faucet
heralding the ends of the earth

the shadow of the mountain grows long
and the image of a wave transfixed
holds my mind’s eye enthralled

the sweeping majesty of where nothing is
reminds me where I can find the truth
is not in the lights and sounds and tall
but in the small and quiet and hard to see

wilderness, the last frontier of silence
because even in space the song of the stars
keeps atoms company, but here, each
living creature must live in silence

live with the fear of hearing themselves
naked, without the clothing of others
without the mask of screaming cities
without the refuge of music and conversation

the days are hot and the nights take their revenge
but all is calm here, not even the rain
dares disturb the silence and grandeur
of the desert.

as RNA polymerase
quietly unzips your
DNA and moves along
the length of your genes
and a bit of RNA
emerges and moves
through the cytoplasm,
after the snRNPs do
their work, of course
and your ribosomes
attach and tRNA does
its noble job fixing
to its anti-codons
linking the peptide chains
of the building blocks
of life

as all this happens
I close my eyes
and kiss you
gently on the cheek
and you smile a little

but even if the world
was about to be destroyed
I think I’d be too busy
looking at you
to do much about it

and the end of the world
wouldn’t be as exciting
as a fraction of a glance
from you, cast in my direction

all of the stars colliding
and the end of all life
would hardly hold my attention
and certainly not keep it from you

all of the movie stars
naked in my bed, in my head
they don’t even weigh in the balance,
negligible, like electrons, the world
nothing but a cloud of energy
that surrounds our nucleus

twisted trees tear at the horizon
the clear night of my soul
allows a few bright stars
to stab through the darkness
landing photons from a hundred years
into my retina, bipolar cells firing

the night comes without warning
and we are all lost, carrying torches
with which we manage only to burn our fingers

clothes fall away and we see one another
it is not a pretty thing to be alone
how then can we be so loved by One
who sees all things, witnesses our solitude
our anger, our frustration
hears the terrible things
which we whisper to the floorboards
when no one can hear us

as we emerge from the womb
screaming to life in the hands of a stranger
we come into this world the same way we leave it:
covered in blood.

I need to be serenaded
by a guitar overdriven
into distorted bliss,
there's something
so uplifting
in the crunch and fuzz.
Marc Bolan’s swagger
and funk infect me
and I giggle in delight