this gambler's arm rests
on the raised felt
beside the blue and white
poker chips
reaches in the soft light
through the rising smoke
receives wishful breath
and casts the die
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
A sherbet horizon
made in hunger and angst
that swallows the sun
and her breath
as she whispers soft-lipped words
that will crack the ocean
White November feeds pain
gently resting on my shoulders
melting with snowflakes
that shimmer like pennies
in the bottom of
a wishing well
with your silent heart
That I once wished would beat
beaten and emblazoned
with tears and guts
it is not a pretty place
in my head or outer space
where there is emptiness and fire
and evaporating screams
from quiet cosmonauts
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 4:47 PM UTC
He is watching the cabs gripping
A two dollar and fifty cent sandwich
in the trembling wind
It is hard to digest suicide
in little bites
the air is thinly sliced
on window panes dripping
with snowfall and fresh electricity
young ice on the
nervous water
retreating to frosted mudcracks
the streets are ******* up shadows
on the mute cement
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 4:45 PM UTC
torrential inky blackness
an anti-equinox
over cobblestone
lamp post arcs perching
on 5 lanes
streets wear orange halogen light
concrete and water
his tires scream
on asphalt
the popsicle stains
on khaki
mix with downpour
of cloudbursts
sky is lost
in a darkened prism
scarlet solstices
passed long ago
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
rushing riptide steely cyan white tips
on iron monsoon walls cutting through ships
as elegant as any,
but I
now
start
to
see
that
this tidal
wave sadly is
crashing towards me
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 4:39 PM UTC
The horizon spills onto trees
where amber
turns to periwinkle
past railroad tracks
I dream of branch climbing
in sun and sky
The train’s behind schedule
You promised to guard my dreams
if I slept under a promising evergreen
or sycamore
I kept an eye open long enough
To see my dreams drip from leaves
In the distance,
a lover’s kiss on the bench
tastes of tobacco and peppermint
the cardinals and crossbills agree
that the cold blankets of winter
are a fair trade-off
for midsummer’s alfalfa and apple blossoms
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
Vermilion hardwood
A tea bag steeps
Against glass and ice
Dalamation Paper
Soaks up
Cracked lead
And thoughts
Yeshua and Yahweh
Christ and Father
On pages
Everything is mooncheeked
Between the lampshade
And windowsill
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 1:24 AM UTC
Sarah Wilson's blouses
and unmentionables
hang one-hundred feet
above the vacant stomachs of strays
who sniff suspicious puddles
of dumpster runoff
and rainwater
little broken suns
drip down brick mountains
beneath condemned fire escapes
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
it is dark with you
I squint to see supernovas
on yellow stumps
the wispy silver ripples
fall the wrong way
nothing is left but
tobacco exoskeletons
you brood against velvet arms
sinking into the chair
the stone in your chest is heavy;
immune to April plumage
spilled nectar
and the smells before rain
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 7:46 PM UTC
my shadow in pursuit
an angelic silhouette
steadfast
but not synchronized
hiding by the penumbra
you are everything I once was
a hundredth of a second ago
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 11:46 PM UTC