Everything was as it
always was, nothing had changed –
youth sleuthing through
the heightened wet,
light gracing stonetop,
and a pillowed streak
on western sky –
and as before,
sun corrals light –
amoral, though not abnormal
but for
its leaning
on my weathered
heart
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
And I think that in spite
of ourselves,
perhaps we are what we
would like to be –
I should like
to roam,
to take the pull and spliff of life
(and as the lonely railroads
and workyards swim in sepia and gray-
green, in spite of themselves, they too
glimmer in right
sunlight)
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
Somewhere between
Sanatorium and Paradise
it hit me -
how utterly free
we are, so free
it's almost offensive.
Caving and leaking,
I bundle trust and decision
at my side
(if only I were
capable of artless rhythm,
of give and take).
For Freedom breeds
athleticism
(listless,
its muscles atrophy
the gauging of times
and seasons,
the measure of pass and stow;
slacken the meter
of intention and desire
to pool and settle as they grow.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 8:21 PM UTC
O lioness,
your head swung low, stooped
on muscled haunches and still,
so still on arid reed -
is your mind swept clean, all sins
forgiven? That ravenous beast -
kingly and untouchable, like a god -
is joined by another,
and bearded like wizened lords,
both parade and bare pride
and teeth. As Jealousy and Lust devour
your scrubbed young, you resign -
fur blending and heart shrivelling
in heat - and perhaps
what frightens you most
is later giving love and life
to someone that has stolen it.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 6:17 PM UTC
Is my genteel unaffection
mere lack of movement or inflection?
(though I’d like to think that my reflection shines
brighter in your eyes than in mine)
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 5:33 PM UTC
I was lighter, then -
heavier, yes, but lighter -
the weights newer,
less determined.
Then - before all
turned inward,
fixation outward -
before windowsills
turned old,
and aspiration skyward.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 7:07 PM UTC
At the kitchen sink,
raw hands scrubbed clean
of associations, the untraceable
scent of you overwhelmed me.
Its subtlety was disarming,
trawling nights of salty tongues
and toothpasted underbrush,
of bundled mornings
and the Führer’s glassy eye,
bright blue. Of wan starlight
gleaming on placid lake
and raucous beer-spiked nights
across the water. That light
presaged different things for both of us.
But that night you lingered close
on air, edging the doorjambs wedged
with year-old hesitations,
the driftwould crumbling
the threaden footfalls between
your house and mine.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 8:16 PM UTC
Light creases the pavement
like ruddied cheeks on a pillowcase,
warms the scrappy reeds,
the goldenrod bunching
on hillsides,
the tired, waterless crop
and their juvenilia tenacious
and cambering over field -
(and with present as marked past)
all realigns
and is overwhelmingly
simple
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 9:43 PM UTC
and on the highway that night
(city lights like honey combs
quivering in a black, cool indifference)
I felt at once too large
and too small
for this world to contain me
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 9:43 PM UTC
Heavy,
like molasses,
sweet
like buttercream,
syrupy,
more-ish,
and boy,
those chilied
rhythms,
piquant and hot
on the tongue.
Your voice is
cut clean
like crystal,
crisp yet full-
bodied,
light dancing
on merlot
or rosé.
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 9:42 PM UTC