There are no real maps
There are none that are true
You lay the sphere of our bellies down flat
And you face a conundrum of view
So why do we learn they are certain
And why don’t we follow or nose
And how did the sailors of ancient
Find their ways to and back home
Mind map, Google maps, star map
Infinite things trapped in lines
Like drawing a circle round an ant
A taunt from wasted time
Mar 10, 2022
Mar 10, 2022 at 12:21 AM UTC
But
if I go to sleep
I’ll miss out on all of
the nothing.
Like how I forgot to ask
Mel how her day was back.
After she asked me so kindly,
in the shrouded space of a
blacked-out gallery.
You know,
the important stuff.
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 6:21 PM UTC
The night washing over our heaving, fleshy carcasses. Like two crayfish in a current.
So you are telling me.
We ****** in a whirlpool of sound. In a dilapidated guest room.
There. Moaning into you with my eyes, I ravenously endowed our fevers.
And you make it into pretty words.
Prettier than I could ever polish my sprawling lobster legs into sounding.
Who talks like that.
Mar 8, 2021
Mar 8, 2021 at 6:51 AM UTC
Did I taste
like Her
or
did She
taste like
the
old Me?
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 3:04 AM UTC
She slips out of bed to make
The worlds biggest coffee
And pin him there on the thin
Cushion she bought for his
Part-time big sigh head
Feb 17, 2021
Feb 17, 2021 at 9:22 PM UTC
i want to cry so badly that
i want to cry
that i want to cry
you overwhelm me.
i want to cry so badly
but my ducts are dry
the tears well inside
i'll drown intern a l l y
Feb 17, 2021
Feb 17, 2021 at 7:16 PM UTC
Amongst many to feel
you sleep in your angry
curled-up ball.
To soften your eyes.
Where have you been
my love?
What can you know?
When did this seed of
you now, find itself home?
Why could I dream of you
before you laid here?
To know some parts of you
fills me with fear.
And dread.
I’ll have to confess my
earth-prints too.
Feb 17, 2021
Feb 17, 2021 at 7:14 PM UTC
Wrought-wide eyes from catching clouds on the safety of our backs
Who's lifting who dried-up with the fossils, tucked away at Jack's
Can you capture the oily maze of Perla, Gary, Glen AND Dee?
We should cap the treasure trove. Just one shell. Alright... three.
Passenger mats drowned long ago in quartets of sandy shoes
They're coming around to dukkah, but beetroot's an ongoing feud.
We'll find our way back to purple-brown after art class in year nine
Until then just squeeze my hand when they see **** every time.
Curse words stowed beneath our necks, cellared with the red wine.
Pull binoculars out in twenty years to seek parrots in sun spines.
Trick them into dusking walks, the promise of ice cream at Kateri
Squealing across Eileen's golden grain, I hope they pick Rasberry.
He swirls the sand beneath him and burrows his sweet brow.
She builds bridges for fairies and writes names in stick-crayon.
I'll say they're just like us, one day when they can stand it least
Until then their just like you dreamboat, floating down my east.
Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 10:39 PM UTC
I told you I would find you a spring poem
filling your mind with the smell of daffodils
the worded anticipation of warmer, saturated.
But poems about spring feel tacky tonight
like a valentines day chocolate that melted
in my back pocket where your hand fits
They reverb a softness that
my tired eyes can’t grapple to focus.
I’m trying but spring means that
My year has been swallowed before me.
The only use I see for these budding sakura
are for peppering that grief with scorn.
Perhaps I will sleep it off. But then,
perhaps cynicism in the face of ******
beauty, is my becoming a poet.
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 8:14 AM UTC
Let me lick your cinnamon freckles
and map them with my tongue.
If I could strip you of your body
I'd leave this feature, just this one.
Perhaps that might sound creepy,
I fetishize your spots.
But dear oh dear forgive me
I could gobble them right up.
If poetry must be pretty
I will take this moment to compare
them to stars, grains of sand- whatever
sends the shiver back up your spine.
But these thoughts are not pretty
they are hungry
and your skin makes my mind
S A L I V A T E.
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 6:21 AM UTC