Out of lemon flowers
loosed
on the moonlight, love's
lashed and insatiable
essences,
sodden with fragrance,
the lemon tree's yellow
emerges,
the lemons
move down
from the tree's planetarium
Delicate merchandise!
The harbors are big with it-
bazaars
for the light and the
barbarous gold.
We open
the halves
of a miracle,
and a clotting of acids
brims
into the starry
divisions:
creation's
original juices,
irreducible, changeless,
alive:
so the freshness lives on
in a lemon,
in the sweet-smelling house of the rind,
the proportions, arcane and acerb.
Cutting the lemon
the knife
leaves a little cathedral:
alcoves unguessed by the eye
that open acidulous glass
to the light; topazes
riding the droplets,
altars,
aromatic facades.
So, while the hand
holds the cut of the lemon,
half a world
on a trencher,
the gold of the universe
wells
to your touch:
a cup yellow
with miracles,
a breast and a ******
perfuming the earth;
a flashing made fruitage,
the diminutive fire of a planet.
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 4:48 PM UTC
there was another mass shooting.
—where?
california.
—school?
bar.
—kids?
college students.
—how many.
12.
then silence.
and we go on with our day.
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 10:58 AM UTC
they say it together, as if on a split screen:
on one side, his pale pale skin and my most favorite combination of brown hair-blue eyes
all angles and chapped hands
but he is unholy now, our shadows have marred his face
and pushed him away from me until i feel the sunlight on my skin
again and
bear the cold of winter.
on the other side is you.
sloping body and cappuccino skin
your lips curve up at the ends and you are strong baby, the powerlines to my city
but you're saying it too
with venom and hot water and i am reminded of why
i wanted to be left alone,
the past and present can be so cruel
when they they begin to meld into the same person.
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
A pretty girl got seven stitches and watched while the
Needle wove through her arm
A pretty boy broke her heart and she forgot to be angry
A pretty father and a pretty mother in a big, beautiful house
Sobbed in the night and clung to each other like soggy paper mache
The girl wore hospital socks and turned over the underwire in her bra
Staring at the green curtain clanking against the metal track above her
Praying for an ambulance man that would never come
And a god that would never save her
She stopped praying
And got the stitches removed seven days later.
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC