I take off my summer skin,
peel back bronzed afternoons
and cleave through
those muggy mornings
you were still here
but not for long.
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 8:48 PM UTC
There are holes in my brain and I shovel words to bury
that emptiness
I look for laughter that's not my own
I search my hometown graveyard
the spaces of your affection
I'm flipping through the oldest books
******* in the autumn air;
I cannot find the thing I lost
There are holes in my brain but I kept you,
Heart,
perhaps a different way of craving
wholeness
Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 9:25 PM UTC
Crow's feathers like
The exoskeleton
Of a long-nose weevil,
The color of
Mom's grease-stained
Pots illuminated in moonlight.
They're a mind
That's gone dark
With a tunnel straight through,
Like a billion
Ants all piled
On- throbbing
Can you hear
Them *******
Hear them slurping?
Those oily wings
Writhe in air like bodies
Launched from 90-story trade buildings
They close their eyes;
Sleep forever
Bathing in crow's feathers.
Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 6:32 PM UTC
There's a certain wraith
in the cleaning of kitchens
scrubbing of floors
ringing of towels til
the fingers puff up
and bleach seeps
beneath your fingernails.
There's a certain wraith
to all these quiet burdens.
Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 11:56 AM UTC
I've been collecting words
for years- cataloguing
feral and oblivion, catharsis and
iridescence. I keep gusto
in the drawer beside my bed.
I put visceral next to the broken
mirror you left. I've hidden marrow
next to vastness as if they are mine
alone. See how they slip out of me
like a ****** nose at just the wrong time.
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 4:11 PM UTC
The word of God
Is neon now-
It screams odious
Love to the silent
Collection of limbs
Beneath it.
Iridescence
Falls in irradiated
Waves, reaches the
Sedate, the wanderers
Of Asphalt Nightmares,
At last.
They can hardly hear it
Over the mumble of voices.
They shift, leave by way
Of saturated, naked streets
Steeped
In weariness.
The new God is
Neon- but all the same
Unheard; It's violent lights
Looking to the morally
Righteous; finds
No one.
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 2:40 PM UTC
Years ago, I limestoned
my way through girls,
cool and completely solid.
As they swayed,
sweet and sweat-inducing,
glossed in a perfunctory pink
at the foot of my bed,
I could feel them sinking
all the way through me,
swaying between
my synapses.
But now I'm crepuscular.
I'm seizing as girls
prism in front of me
like sequins,
like fool's gold.
They leave the door unlocked
behind them.
I was once told pyrite
isn't a lie if you know
it's pyrite- if it shows you
all its sides
individually and with care-
but I still wanted them to be solid gold.
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 10:47 PM UTC
I know a scared God
(I've seen a scared God)
A living-way-up-there God
Slumped outside our orbit of violence
We're wishing you just cared God
Upside while I'm downtown screaming:
YOU KNOW THIS ISN'T FAIR GOD
You're hiding up in nitrous heavens
A help-only-if-you-dare God
As our sins slip into the water supply
You've given us nothing to bathe in God
These California fires; these 2 a.m. stabbings
All this suffering isn't rare God
With nothing else to live up to
I guess we have to wear god.
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 11:46 AM UTC
The mechanism of my body is ticking away the moments:
clinical seconds, dehydrated hours, years washed too clean.
The orbit of my ribs makes its rounds with momentous clicking
felt as a ripple- a forte into seizure.
There's something industrial in the alignment of these organs:
A factory of ventricles straining against the assembly line.
I'm a blood clock, tragic motor; I'm an organism
too mechanical to hold.
With a liver like a coal burner and lungs to expel the smoke,
how can I find a way back to being human.
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 11:33 AM UTC
You're miles apart from
God, I know, but I see the
Divinity in
your careful silences
bottled tight insight
tight-lipped smiles.
I need to stop there.
Stop these abundant
love poems about the sorrows
I cannot fix
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 11:27 AM UTC