the bones of the doors in some parallel worlds,

I take hold and swing but then they fall apart,

to fly toward dimensions I never suspected.


the leaves of the heart where you've never trespassed

fold open just like a mechanical clock,

all gears and cylinders driven by time.


it's too late when the bones disperse,

it's too late when the clocks stop talking-

caught in the wake of something immense.


help me wake up, I’ve been sleeping too long.

help me wake up, we’ve been sold for a song.

In love they wore themselves in a green embrace.
A silken rain fell through the spring upon them.
In the park she fed the swans and he
whittled nervously with his strange hands.
And white was mixed with all their colours
as if they drew it from the flowering trees.

At night his two finger whistle brought her down
the waterfall stairs to his shy smile
which like an eddy, turned her round and round
lazily and slowly so her will
was nowhere—as in dreams things are and aren't.

Walking along avenues in the dark
street lamps sang like sopranos in their heads
with a voilence they never understood
and all their movements when they were together
had no conclusion.

Only leaning into the question had they motion;
after they parted were savage and swift as gulls.
asking and asking the hostile emptiness
they were as sharp as partly sculptured stone
and all who watched, forgetting, were amazed
to see them form and fade before their eyes.

Suicide seeps loosely from your lips-
Leviticus could only carry so much
Weight before the heavy words
Laden with your December-white
Morals and twice baked ideals,
Dragged him down to live with the lepers.
Sputtering out half delusional
Laments to your ever present savior,
Your words drip over the crisp white
Lines, creating muddled phrases
That you eagerly inhale
Off the top of porcelain toilet seats and cedar pews,
Because self loathing is natural
When repeating the mantra:
Only sinners can be saved.
Your frail arms, bent and convoluted over
Your tense and righteous face, inadvertently
Form the sign of a cross,
Casting a shadow on the sharp corners
Of your thin, puckered lips.
Sacrifice and repentance chase your vulnerable mind
Right off the deep end, and into the 3am abyss in which
You are perpetually present.
As you speak, your eyes catch glow
Of the searing flames that taunt your every thought,
Like embers, alive with the hot, igniting presence of the past,
They search and scan my face,
As if begging to be understood
In a language made up of truths
That only float
When they're dead.

I gave my heart
You crushed my soul
With a mocking grin
You let me go

How dare you hate
And now I find
You gave to others
What was only mine

To walk away
Will be my trial
No looking back
No denial

Of things I fear most
is someone taking away my rationality.
All the power you have
to so easily alter my mood.
Take my insecurities
'cause I don't remember having them.
Give me names good for the ear.
Hey look.
Look here,
Look at nothing.

At ***** ****'s and Sloppy Joe's
We drank our liquor straight,
Some went upstairs with Margery,
And some, alas, with Kate;
And two by two like cat and mouse
The homeless played at keeping house.

There Wealthy Meg, the Sailor's Friend,
And Marion, cow-eyed,
Opened their arms to me but I
Refused to step inside;
I was not looking for a cage
In which to mope my old age.

The nightingales are sobbing in
The orchards of our mothers,
And hearts that we broke long ago
Have long been breaking others;
Tears are round, the sea is deep:
Roll them overboard and sleep.