algorithmic street signs
with altruistic elegance
senses and the sensible
of whom Socrates is enviable
a heron, preferring solid ground
but taking to the skies with pride
for she knows that she'll accomplish both
because when born she made her oath
"dear lord, they're all asking you
to give them what they have not
but all that i would ask from you
is to give me the courage not to choose"
and so today she sings her songs
metallic and melodic, perfect balance,
and she knows she's never going to fall
because if you're in the middle, there's no gravity at all

i've tried to give myself every warning
i've planted signs and grown a lighthouse
but im standing too close to the rocks
(its not that i can't see them,
its just that i don't care)
and i'm going to slip and fall
and im going to break an arm
leg and all my ribs
just to go swimming in my heart
just to let go of my caution-tape mind
so im going to sew my thighs and calves
so i can dive far beyond the crashing waves
where i could find my courage to speak
to whoever this is who has murdered me
to whoever this is who is smiling at me

I am a landscape of hills and valleys
and some jagged edges where
the world stops.
I have clean springs and caverns
on my face and
small peninsulas that sense
and feel on my hands.
I have changed this landscape
and ploughed it to find
the red soil that lies underneath
the pale surface.
And the people have told me
it is destroyed.
But from there inside the pain
grows a garden
and a planet continues
living.

they keep asking me if I'm 'okay'
and i can't say no because look at this,
a flawless facade drawn
with such vivid accuracy that the
picture is a photograph and I can
see myself in that mirror with my
perfect smile and life all ready
to be burned down to the skeleton in
my own fight for the freedom of man

and how can i deny the fact that I am
utterly miserable with this fleeting grin
and crying laughter that makes people wonder
if someone is dying in the next room over
when the disease is a cold and they have cancer
you know they can hear your sadness and they
are currently flying through their own darkness
to find the strength to strangle you until you cry no more
but it only makes you grow colder

the only proof for 'okay' is the words
that blare out like a speaker on repeat
because this face can't let them hear my cracking porcelain ;
not the little dying girls down the hall.

Disney taught me that
Even little kittens
Sitting on the bench of their sleek baby grand
Can understand the definition
Of practice makes
Perfect
With their tails clicking in Perfect unison
Perfect Four/Four time
Time of which there is not enough
To just stand and mutter a free meter
Without uttering Failure

Expression of the heart does not so easily
Occur through Vaccai
But to express power of mind would prove
Simple as memorizing scales and opening the mouth
Because you’re a vocal thunderstorm
Wreaking havoc, a Hurricane
Of a Butterfly,
A musical anomaly
With path destined for success
If you would just stay with the rhythm
One beat longer

But inside of you there is
Sunlight
Repressed by storm clouds

she sorts her clothes color-coded
because it "just feels right"
and while we see it as mechanical
she knows it as instinct
just like that wide-eyed stare
when she's driving down the road
and realizes she forgot
her handbag at home
and even she, the most complex
of all creatures in the animal kingdom,
feels the urge to run
when a predator is approaching

she colored space-time
into her hair
using only a paintbrush and patience
strand by strand she formed it:
the glistening planets and stars that are
of her own mind
neurons shooting like rockets
envisioning the galaxies that, built from her hands,
exploded from nothing into everything,
tangible but free, whispering red gold light

she wrote out the oceans
using her hands
lakes rivers and streams, and the lands along the edges
word by word she poured it:
the life of each puddle turned into clay creatures
that breathed reality
existing like trees on the vast new savannas
living freedom that, carved from her fingertips,
developed happiness and sorrow,
careful but real, eating their new knowledge

she gave birth to gods
from her parted lips
speaking out deities and auras
making the small assertion:
that life came from her and all things by her
but the life she loves had long since forgotten
the green of her eyes
and the red rock of her skin,
her writings and whispers
floating throughout the summer smog
so she roared in the thunder and the rushing waves
for her children and worlds to listen
but they could no longer hear, and she was left
lost and awaiting, wrapped
in her own space-time hair

how about we start again
2:30 a.m. with broken televisions
reliving yesterday's disasters
just like when the waves informed me
that i don't hate clocks, i just thought i could
because you can since you're a god like im a goddess
but sometimes earth holds me down
just like the depths of the ocean that are too cold to
breathe in
and i do like the clocks because
my heart has no rhythm
like wind
so my metronome is something you will never follow
despite my silent requiem you yearn to find
and even i can't seem to fall asleep
with the sound of on-screen ocean storms in my ears
that you just can't seem to hear
on the next street over

each string is a dimension
and he's traversing them
fourth, fifth, ninth;
symphonies of light and color
with mathematical precision
that astronauts would envy
but he didn't sign up for space travel
and to touch the earth again would be like
being born a prodigy of mud and sky
you can see it on his face, flashing,
like the shooting stars his fingers so desperately pattern out
across the red wood, the color of home
so from dust he must try to create
a galaxy, when no man is a god

how much would i give to be a cat
my pendulum tail tick-tocking on top of the countertop
like the metronome that sits by the piano unused
(but the ghosts turn it on every once in a while
when they tire of standing behind my shoulders
at four a.m. when i am in love and cannot sleep)
with the rays of sunlight that erupt
in the morning, i'll sing 'til the door swings open
and feet will emerge, and on top of them legs
that hold body and hands to feed me,
all for me and
no other being will be as praised as i,
the king of the kitchen

Si le sable tombait de sous mes pieds
comme j'etais courait vers tes bras,
je voudrais nage à travers la vaste mer
vagues me tirant vers le bas en l'obscurité.
j'etais dehors de toi
et pour tu, je chanterais
jusqu'à ce que ma gorge ne plus pourrait parler
et ma voix deviendrait le vent lamentations.

hellos and how are yous
just menial things
in comparison to that look
i can see in your eyes
when you glance my way
its singing silently in that awful,
off-tune voice of yours
and its always made me
toss and turn inside with
nausea but now there's
feathers tickling me
making me laugh

my heart's an iceberg that sinks ships
and wrecks the ocean's currents
i am a brick wall you cannot scale
and my guards are strong enough
to shoot you down
but you've become something like ivy
climbing up within me and tearing me apart
brick by brick
to build a meadow of destruction
for us to lay in together

he was a man of many words
who wasn't afraid of a fight
so he joined the debate team (without
parent permission) and
boy what a shame
that poor little rich girl
with letters in her hair just so happened
to snitch to his conscience
about his unfair advantage
so he went downhill until nowhere was left
but hellfire theatre where he hid
and the flowers didn't bloom in sun
because she was always there to guide him
so to see his calla lilies he tore the sky
until no words were left to read on her face

sometimes when it gets late at night
and i see you up watching the news
again
and
again
i remember the tinker toys
down in your cool basement

it smells like must and dirt
and dust now covers the rocking horse
where i would sit and watch you rock me
the play set still looks like a jungle
the small animals are still cold to the touch
the table tennis at the edge of the wall
sits motionless

sometimes when it gets late at night
and i see you up watching the news
again
and
again
i think of when i could still love you
and when you knew my name

if there were clocks that would send me back
before the time when the neighborhood
was full of toddlers and dying men
when the rain puddles still fell lightly
beneath my still-small galoshes,
i would use them and bring you with me
we'd look at each other with hazel eyes
dripping with the stars and the memories
of our distant futures, far from our miniature grasp,
and talk about flowers and their place in our hearts
and crawl through the mud without our raincoats
to find the worms in the dirt, to build them a
kingdom of sticks and dust
with a moat running through it and we would rule
despite our ever-changing bodies
and our once separate lives

i'd make sure to place you in the empty house
right next to mine
and we'd start again
as brothers

He told me i was prettier in person
the night after we kissed in my best-friend's foyer
awkwardly missing the mouth because he was afraid
he would make a mistake
with a mistake
who had acne on her lip
and crooked teeth he'd luckily missed
when he kissed mouth closed
the second time
He told me Jesus Christ I was lovely
the moment I returned home
to cover my legs unfairly scratched by grass and flowers
with CVS brand diaper rash ointment, all over my fingers,
in my eczema cracks,
because I couldn't take the pain on my knees any longer
He told me to please not move
when I laid my head on his shoulder,
my unshaven arm round his waist and unshaven leg touching his own
and I could feel the bridge of my long nose
pushing in to the carotid artery where his heart pulsed faster and faster
as he ran one soft and gentle hand through my hair
and held my eczema cracks in his other, my grandmother hands,
that the other boy had called contagious, and the other girl had called
Alligator Skin
He told me he loved to walk behind me
though i had forgotten to suffer through bra stuffing
and wore baggy pants to prevent my knees against the trees
and my figure resembed a giraffe, knobly and unkept mane and all
He told me nothing
when He leaned in to kiss me a second time
and He put his hands in my mane
and His leg under my CVS knees
and His face in my Alligator hands
and my unstuffed bra near his chest
And His open mouth on my acne covered, crooked toothed mouth

because I am prettier in person

you're a bluebird baby with a falcon stare
tell me one more time
about the cat-scratch secrets
hiding beneath the ****** blankets
you wash once a week
that smell maroon and taste copper
with a hint of saffron and poppy,
just to add to the irony
what else have you been keeping from us?
sometimes I wonder if I had found you first
it would have ended differently
but maybe my fingers in your feathery hair
can't ease your hurricane
that we've come to adore and despise
why did I never see it, screaming,
swelling up in there, that human whirlpool
how many nights were you alone?
when did I see you and your sunshine smile
and couldn't feel the gun pressed against your skull
what else have you been keeping from us?
because despite your skyward eyes
you're one step closer to Hell
please, don't take your mending wings too close to Heaven
you're already there

sometimes the flowers dance
better than the ones you love
sometimes the trees will sing arias
smoother than the lead of the play
sometimes the leafy bushes hide
better than closed mouths
sometimes the creeping weeds  
are stealthier than the criminal
sleeping next door

sometimes when everything is falling down
dandelion fluff can find its way around
and even in our human stillness
grass can still be free

is your brain blinding you when you fall asleep
are there dancing colors in your eyes on dark evenings
what kind of fairies can you see, because
i can see them all
will birds sing you awake in the morning
just because you think they are for you
will single words send you over the edge
and you feel your heart race like you're in love when really
you don't know why this is family, because
i don't know mine
do equations surround you with the warmest of blankets
when the night is too cold to survive with just poetry
do your friends scare you sometimes but that's okay
because they're the closest thing you've got anyway
do you give yourself to die in someone's arms
can you smell the flowers and know how they think
can you use mind control on passers by, because
i think i can
are you swimming in someone's eyes
are you digging for long forgotten gold
are you dying every second of every day
are you a goddess that moves mountains
or a philosopher who moves hearts, because
i am
we all are

why not join us?

my retainer broke and i held it in my hand
my nails were ***** because we were at camp
it was red plastic despite tasting like metal
and you were there, we walked into a boat
abandoned in the dry sand piled high
i kept seeing flies and i felt my heart
it was enormous and i couldn't stand
you made a face to show that you felt the same
when i told you about my fear of them,
and i made a face when you said you'd
forgotten to let me know, that in seven weeks
it would be goodbye, and you were leaving
for the empty deserts of California

i thought about the days and how to tell you
that i loved you, that i loved you, here,
that goodbye was all i had and all i could give
because my mouth was full from all the camp food
and the darkness you had chased away

you told me to sit by you later
when we watched the symphony play

when i woke up i couldn't shake the feeling that you had
died

They ask me why I go through the pain.

The pain of distance.
The pain of silence.
The pain of difference.
The pain of jealousy.
The pain of harshness.
The pain of helplessness.
The pain of bitterness.
The pain of emptiness.

They ask me why I go through the pain
And I reply that
Without pain there is no joy.

The joy of finally holding each other's hand after a long flight home.
The joy of a "how are you" after a busy day.
The joy of learning a new song or listening to an idea you'd never dreamed could exist.
The joy of relief when they say you are the one and only.
The joy of hearing quick wit from the living room, starting as a lighthearted chuckle, changing to boisterous and cynical guffaws.
The joy of finally hearing the tears begin to fall when they've been held in for far too long and you can move forward.
The joy of the break in the silence after a difficult day when the apologies flow like honey, slow and sweet.
The joy of finally being whole, when life becomes real and free, and everything before it a papier mache mystery.

They ask me why I go through the pain.
What a pity: they have never been in love.

little scraps of paper
strewn across the hall like its
over
but with crimson stars on musty bedsheets
we realize it has only begun.
good, better, best, work early so you aren't late,
late as in 6 feet under...
just push it all away with high scores and hard work.
who cares about your bleeding heart
or those odd marks you can't see from far away.
youre a star! stars don't take breaks,
they burn forever,
and then implode.
silently.
beautifuly tragic.
"what a way to go!" the sticker says.
one hundred percent.

Mama's a warden
she keeps me in line.
when i get bent out of shape
she bends me back harder
so hard that i snap
and she laughs
'cause that's what Mamas do
in the face of destruction
so i've been told

i'd break if You died and there were still flowers

soul like fire,
eyes like ice,
he's never waiting,
that forever flowing river
who's got this notion that
god's got nothing on his mind
christ's got nothing on his lips
"no **** way im ever gonna die"
is in his every word
each breath in is one step
closer to greatness
and the glances given
are lances
piercing
someday he will cut through the starry black
and don that sacred crown
upon that sacred stage where we
the blessed in his name gather
but don't applaud quite yet
one could always
build a dam

i know you told me you tell all your friends i love you
but when i see them coming near you with their sugarcoated lips
the devil on my shoulder, who dresses like you but her lipstick's red,
tells me that my pixelated poetry can't be enough
i know you told me that the week was hell and now you need sleep
but when i flash before your eyes like rain before it falls into a puddle,
indecernable, and i an feel your eyes boaring into my soul, i think,
maybe i just need to try one more time, though you're tired
i know you told me your life is hard and its all you can do to stay alive
but here i go again, putting my anthill of cough medicine and paycuts
next to a mountain of car accidents and sleepless nights i never knew,
and you listen to every word and break my heart

i know you told me that you love me
but the devil on my shoulder laughs like you some days,
because you are the sunlight covered by my clouds
and all i am is undeserving

scraps of cosmic resonance
in every neuron's eloquence
taking up in residence
as misty image fast presents

you've got a forest burning in your eyes
that's never going to grow from the ashes
so move to the city and knock it down
like building blocks you want to go back to
but there's too many lovers in the way
so come away to the meadow with me
plant a few flowers and watch them grow to the sky
we have nowhere to be til they touch the stars
and then we can climb their young stalks
to see how far we've come since we lit a match

the military came today
a brigade marching in line
and its too late for order while im laying in bed
watching them cross the ceiling in unison
black bodies following the cracks like deer paths
that should be used for dreaming about new horizons
but instead we’ve got the army charging in for battle
with microscopic villains who cling to the dust
hidden in the wall since before
we could give ants life with our peripheral thoughts
and mine are a screaming desire for parenthetic
phrases with sidetracks and bright colors
not the rigid two-by-two of little black boots
not bothering to explore the drywall universe before them

It's waking up in the late morning and the sleep in your eyes bringing you visions of the world before time began.  The vast eternal plains carry on into the midday sun while you walk towards the horizon.  You don't need to be curious anymore.
It's lying awake in the night and your restless mind bringing you visions of the world as it falls to its death.  The empty forest opens up to the sea, where the sun sets and you can finally admire the billions of stars in all their magnificence.  You don't need to be strong anymore.

You don't need a reason anymore.
You may rest.

charged with ****** in the first degree
its voluntary manslaughter every day
from the moment he awakens
until he draws out his nightly eulogy
from the well of his dreams
that tragic transcendentalist
just got led astray
from the red ribbon path I laid for him
when he decided
(but the Devil made him do it)
to take that scissor-edged blade
and cut his way free
it's worthy of hearing
but the jury won't listen
so he'll just **** again
until he gets the conviction he wants
charged with ****** in the first degree
he's only the shell of who he used to be
when he tears off the wings
from the Hope fluttering inside him
at night where even Sun can't see

i hear it beating
like that thunder in the dark
its a pulse beyond blankets
and hot tea on cold nights
i hear it filling
every crevice of the world
its stalking, close, breath
every neck can feel upon it
i can fall for it
my rabbit mind sneaks into the trap,
its an eagle heart remaining free.
that's what this downfall has in store

dancing was all right
until i finally found you
now it breaks my heart

There are two kinds of blond.  Theres the subtle blond, with the dark highlights curling around yellowy strands of hair lain out like grain on a late summer day, baking in the heat of the sun and swaying in the Southern breeze.  Most tale this blond and own it like a miser would their gold.  They just can't let it go, no matter the personal cost, and every time they see it, it takes their breath away.
Not this blond.
This blond got you asking questions.  It's a cloud and a blade all in one.  It's an icy frost piercing through to the warmth underneath your skin.  Its got claws in you now, crawling up your spine, in your back.  Your mind tells you it just cant be real, its too different, too perfect.  But its got the heart in you racing wildly, a roller coaster that ends at reality and starts up again when you announce impossibility.  No way, no way, no way.  The blond of yesterday is today's satin sheets, and you can feel it dragging you closer and closer to bed, that pesky little ******* in your ribs, around your lungs.  Light as feathers you think as you feel yourself floating and falling in rapture in the mystery of it all.  The snow outside's got you questioning if you'll ever see that brightest white again in this storm.  Not this blond.  It's a once in a lifetime opportunity and it's shining right in front of you like bitter cold diamonds.  But **** you think it comforts like a dove. So hope and stay silent, so this get rich quick scheme falls into place, synchronizing with the purest, most blinds white you've ever known.

something tells me you don't see my porcupine quills
for what they really are
because despite what you've been told
by those books you read at midnight
to help you erase insecurity
my kindness doesn't make me cherry-filled
my defense doesn't make me secret
your "tragic past" imposed upon me is not my motive
I am not something dug-up, mysterious and ancient
but your chart says that I am
a delicate power you need to protect
a relic from another world, an alien
different
but why compare a dark towering forest to a flower
we are not like gold and silver
we are not precious and we do not hold worth
we are manufactured of mud and clay
as your ancestors and the ones before you were
and I was raised, like mountains from earth, to believe
that all people were merely and nothing less than
human
and we do not earn this right

what a change from the boy next door
i can't believe the pain you'd cause for passion
i can't believe the joy derived from her grief
i can't believe the new color of your eyes
it could all be a mistake but my mind thinks you're hers
it could all be a mistake but my heart sings for one more dance
it could all be a mistake but i think they were blue?
and purple came from the night we dressed as polar opposites
each to match the other's one true love
but how about we make like magnets and stick together
after all,
you're ****** up because you're lonely
i'm lonely because i'm ****** up
so we're perfect for each other.

nevermind for now, though
with those eyes, red suits you better anyway.

someday she'll be a lawyer
she'll be a doctor
she'll be a revolutionary
someday she'll give love to the poor and nurse the ill
she'll protect the oppressed
she'll tell them what they always knew -
they are strong
someday she'll fly across the sea
she'll use seafoam in her hair
she'll let sunlight kiss her skin
someday she'll move mountains with monologues
she'll write a sonata
she'll recite the words of God
someday she'll become the words of God
she'll bring stars down from the heavens
she'll wrap herself in this great expanse of universe
someday she'll bring that universe to earth
she'll do it for us
she'll do it for her

but someday

she will still
be
alone

You could walk away
Gun smoking in your hand
Blood pouring out of me in rivers
And I could never love you less
You could push me to the ground
And my vision would cloud
And you could call me a monster
And I could never love you less
I've given up my entire soul to you
And you could leave me if you choose
A dead body without purpose or direction
And I could never love you less

Don't let me grow obsolete

i'm so glad you like it when i smile
because every tooth is a dagger
digging deeper towards your center,
a river channeling through every pore
to find your core of solid stone
how strong do you think you are against the forces of time
erosion works best with high acidity, don't you know,
and it just seems that lately life's been giving us lemons
if i were to give you power i would
but realize that i'm a child
and i know the meaning of the word future
because i wouldn't be alive without it
your life must be holographic,
for a hypocritical hypochondriac,
just past forty and trying to put out the only light left

but don't worry about it, don't apologize,
i can't take what you say to heart
because i know it couldn't have come from yours

i dreamt i was shot in the throat by a man who loved me.
he cradled me gently, nestled beneath his quilted wings
in the dim lampshade light of a Scottish hotel room
when he put the steel in the notch above my clavicle.
i dreamt i was shot more frequently in my younger years
by an older man with jagged stubble and antifreeze eyes
and a chilly smile, but the man who loved me was sun-soaked.
my mother often tells me my throat turns red when i touch it.

i am less of a person
and more of a personality

the sudden collision creates a storm within her,
thunder rolls in her ears
lightning explodes in her eyes
and the electricity goes shooting through her veins
and she's feeling lightyears away
as it travels from her temple to her arms to her toes to her knees
to her lungs
to her heart, it beats ecstatically
jumping for joy in the rain
feeling it wash down its skin
feeling it enter every artery
feeling it muddy and dissolve
feeling it degrade and destroy but
feeling
feeling
feeling!

the storm cannot be contained much longer
the rain pours softly from her eyes
as the thunder rumbles in the back of her scratched throat

draped in sunlight she moved
with soft arm and solemn face
as i sat in the shadow
leaves and dirt in hand
examining her bare freckled shoulders
as she laughed at the mud on my face
and she'd read to me in harmonies
and she'd sing to me from the pages
and she'd laugh like it was something
beautiful
and she'd promise me she was a calendar:
everyday

when nights are long and my head is full
sometimes i like to go admire the stars
not for their beauty, for all things can be made beautiful
but they help me know that if i work real hard tonight
i can work real hard tomorrow
and if i work hard till then i can pass the test to take me to medical school,
and after medical school i can work real hard again
and soon i'll be the wealthiest woman in the midwest
rich enough to buy the stars im gazing upon
rich enough to take myself to the moon
rich enough to pay the poor out of their misery
but my wealth would be spent on a satallite
to spy on you as you wait for the fond hello that may never come
you'd be safe in my invisible arms as i gazed from afar,
no longer admiring the stars,
but the stars in your eyes

when nights are long and my head is full
sometimes i like to go admire the stars
not for their beauty, for all things can be made beautiful
but the stars in your eyes