masculinity is a performance
of peacock tears swelling
over the lacrimal caruncle
only to be held from falling
onto the cheek
the bone dry-eyed grimace looks on
with its thousand peacock eyes
sashaying like a polaroid **** pic
shakes to color
this may never be removed
nor femininity; that accessible labyrinth
of deception is worn.
played out in so many lights, with
sleight of hand, tongue in cheek, acrobatics,
and soliloquies - a brilliant show
though hardly scripted
or scripted well - laughing as she cries
and hiccups, putting on every outfit
from her closet in layers then
stripping out of them.
take it off
the play of self and identity
that divides and conflicts
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 3:57 PM UTC
the limes in the trees are downloading
and pallid anthuriums are stiff over their pallets
i scroll pine needles over her face
tickling her ears with the sharp staccato
of their ends. her leg swings through
the dead headed clout of trim below the bench
as her head rolls in my lap trying to escape.
she puts on the colors of the wind
and makes her voice into a convincing profile
of the mountain. inspired i reach down
to pause and put the part in my lips
against hers. touching together
her eyelashes, she ignores a vibrating
under our hands for my nose on her cheek,
until a pine cone, a message,
plunges from the tree,
planting itself beside us in the bench.
when i shook she didn’t pitch, but answered.
what was it?
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 3:22 PM UTC
this mystery is like filling
a glass of water in the dark
holding a finger on the rim
listening to the pitch of empty space
disappearing and the cup growing heavy
waiting for the right moment to let go
and drink
it’s looking up between the clothes lines
through a tunnel of walls at one bit of sky
the roof replaced with stars
infinitely upwards into darkness that’s
still only a glimpse
framed by the inside
in the real direction of the night
it’s a heavy face fighting sleep
stretching night thin because the bed
feels bigger than it should
a yawn swallowing each quarter hour
time in turn swallowing each yawn
arms creep around the pillow
and sleep creeps over the arms
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 12:13 PM UTC
you’re planting in the night
sleepwalking into my fields sowing
with little unconscious moans
handfuls of seeds tossed like your legs
over mine into the mounds of sheets
i’m tangled in you
and the cycles of our sleeping
are in full swing together so that
when i start talking
you talk back in your sleep
waking me up in the dark to look
over our green stalks that are
peeking through the pillows
now growing so quickly
that i know by morning the fruit
will be swollen
ripe and heavy and with my hands
i’ll push back your hair
to pull a kiss from the vine
then you’ll roll over taking the covers with you
like clouds pulled over the sunrise
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 5:19 PM UTC
tin roof of a thousand songs,
play at once for thunder.
like fingers along her back
the rain spills over the roofs shoulders.
every song is confused as it comes
falling out of the sky,
pushing for the earth,
tapping along buildings before the arrival.
play on this room forever.
may she believe in thunder like hope
that music is searching for her
to land chaotic love songs
against her skin.
and suddenly like waves the storm
syncs into harmony.
and each drop knows only one note but
together they hope she hears,
in their timing,
how they love to find her,
to be heard.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 6:36 PM UTC
as i drop my foot
on the head
of an unsuspecting insect,
i think about the time
a hulking finger came
out of the sky
and crushed my thorax,
guts spilling from my ruptured
exoskeleton.
i looked around at my legs
with a snapped antennae
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
a nymph emerging from the wooded floor
the xylem feast eaten square to its fill
in years of waiting to emerge the more
insouciant, wings unfold about its will
it’s molted youth, decoy exuviae
makes room for muscles to contract, express
its newest longing, in a song conveyed
which every tree and heat itself buttress
the electric hum of love that can’t help
but sound, attracts the searching quiet ***
it’s finals moons of life in heedless self
echoes the aching heart of the tettix
in every summers throws with ceaseless breath
that love so boundless persists til death
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 1:43 PM UTC
let go
of that little blister on her foot
and sitting next to her
on the bus that jostles
her head on your shoulder
on the roof her
somnambulant hand
is tucked into your shirt
let go the concrete
floor that holds you up
whose sharp grip
cut her knees
let go the bruises
on your own knees
that dug deep into the tile
of the bathroom floor
let go
like the beach letting go of a wave
clouds of sand tumbling in sea foam
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 12:35 AM UTC
the cardinal flew
into the peach tree
and became a fruit
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 10:47 AM UTC
i pull my passion apart
until all my selves
are looking at each other bewildered
woozy in love with one another
and no energy to fight
i set each
up in a room to wait
together they get anxious
apart I grow anxious
in so many pieces
can’t each survive?
i walk into each room with a revolver
and only one bullet
i hand the gun to god
he puts it back in my hands and says
‘i am the bullet’
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC