slow waltz of sirens ghosts the path
sea spit splendours elusively
near and not near you
but the requiem of space leaves a patient mark
of this
the white curdling on the edge of things
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 10:15 PM UTC
I do not ask the sorrow to stop, but further
to take my grief from me
would unravel the singlest thread yellowing
in my gut
dropping as feathers
:immaculate
gold things
heavier than the world of you
unfolding and folding as a sea of dust
in my serpentine universe
I shouldn’t ever ask it to stop
rather,
as a stone I worry it
cherished as the only open glade
of my tangled mind
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 10:14 PM UTC
all the complicated feelings of outward past us-raking the tawny munich sand
the strange depression asking of itself, and of itself
beetle hymn involute vessel
imperceptible footprints walking towards
then away array of circles
lounging for themselves the sweetbitter
arc
of hands
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 10:12 PM UTC
riderless horse, pales in the east
bringing in this fragment of blue,
trampling off the edge
in slow patterns.
at night I am lost.
I am bleeding. I have asked so.
I have nothing to offer you,
but the senna of crawling branches
under closed moon.
absence oils my throat
a purple flux of cessing.
a vagrant hue.
I want your human letters
but I am stained with ink.
the blue floods my eyes
stains the hue of wanderers
at the slant of my door.
once, I thought I knew
my heart
but I am mundane and
cut with sorrow.
I am not forgiving,
just a few paw prints
left in snow.
in a luxurious, shallow sky
I am tethered
to the kestrel
folding itself
to my ribs.
unraveled in the singing
the hemlock spool yellows
in my gut.
I wander my city of pith
as a sickness
asking the hole
in sky
to shut my mouth
to the senseless tune
of what I do not own.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 11:14 PM UTC
I want to touch the un wholeness of you
fit the tremendous darkness
to air
unreal world
will you move within me for a time?
innumerable arms reaching for hell
motionless limits
within us
we are drowned as oceans
and too dizzy for this
secret
be with me so that I cannot have words
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 11:07 PM UTC
there is some soft space of you always tearing into me.
black claws, coffee laden, drunk from the spirits.
I, a manner of scents ascribed by you.
tallow of night, drowsiness of hands,
wallowing in the redolent shame
of past mistakes.
we can fjord a victory. green-lanterned.
don’t mind the clocks.
we, relic of timepiece.
ticking lavender and bourbon and truffle salt
haloed in tobacco screens.
bitter, rapt mouths.
in a disheveled state, desired stupor
for fumbling hands,
the grief of desire
rakes us.
we know what the guilty do.
these streets were chosen.
we posted the lanterns.
oil light gills us.
I do not even regret the time, just the departure.
I am still filled with musk.
separated, only, by this death between us
can either survive, or meander on.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 11:06 PM UTC
harbinger
harbegere
G. harbor
here/heri[army
beorg[refuge
how the harbinger flies flames
and you dissemble
in her wings
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
this morning
the crows have gamboled
behind the rooftops
in the druz of fields
a hawk peals for
something
I am too sensitive
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 12:43 AM UTC
the empty house with a person in it.
asking.
“sap of progress”
the dark matter between us
must stay.
although,
the jackdaws clean the
branches clean as bones.
stalks for white
the roots are full of her fruit,
urchins of red in a congealed space.
we will leave them there for safe keeping.
jam of black,
buttoned as a root dweller
you will repeat what you have said.
I will ask not to uncleave the truth
for safe keeping.
all these birds. everywhere.
there will be nothing left.
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 12:42 AM UTC
imprecise
-epithet
nothing but trees
“________” nothing but trees
sea blue of blue sea of blue
diseased as stars
flowering as orchids
in the descent of a wet lake
we do not chose for ourselves
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC