before you even
open your mouth, have you ever
considered the weight
of one's
word?

if one would
like to speak of a
flower,
one should wash their
mouth with tea,
and make sure
their speaking is
as clean it can
be

In the museum and
looked at humans bathing
in fresh streams and open
fields

***** bottles on display and
butterflies on display

the evening turned to gold
I was mesmerized by
my own footsteps
their constant motion

the leaves,
plants and bugs left
an orchestra of singing sounds

my feet enveloped by
the mud, pulling me in
to stay

swimming in these deep waters
I say
“This
is the most peaceful experience
I’ve ever had”

In the wetness and
quietness,
a heron flies by, a symbol of
wisdom

“Really?”
swimming backwards where the fish
jump out and spring with delight
“I wouldn’t say it if I
didn’t mean it”.

the smile I will never forget
speaking about having
a house on the water
and bathing in streams,
just like the museums

Eye contact
Takes hold
A coming of age
Bittersweetness overtakes
me.

We spoke of how
the pine trees there
were
so far away from
home

Yet, we both
felt the
same way.

Getting lost in the darkness
after a cool swim in the
river,
You put a flashlight on


The overwhelming sunset had
passed,
and overcoming our confusion,

We watched the bats
with their tricks in the air,
daintily gliding and
searching for
small insects.

I remember my faint
Breaths, climactic
Walking and breathing through the
twigs and leaves

“it would be exciting to glide like
that”.

I watch the dance
of four bats,
celebrating our bodies as
intricate lures for
small bugs

small vampires
nip my skin,
unknowing of the
romantic, short
symbiotic relationship

the walk back to my
vehicle is isolated and
cold,
wishing I was
swimming in those cool waters
once again

yes I am aware
that voice
inside the skull


   speaks to me
late

at night

please do tell
I want      to know
who    this is

impulsive feels like
ecstasy, too good to
be true

cycling everyday through
the same simulation and
             some    
how

somehow there

are


buffers

the
paranoia envelopes
me
like a

warm
    
    blanket

when floors are cold,
the bed,
goosebumps

enter the oasis,
water splashing on my
face like warm holy water

in the shower and inhaling
steam, I think
I understand moths
when they
drown in the flame

I breathe the blood
You lick the copper
Little angels dance in
Their secretive ways

Who’s behind the
Curtain?
Do you
Enjoy it?

Who’s behind
The mask?

Breakfast at 9, sharp
and it's vital time.

That large fat man
with the boyish face
tells me to come
on,
and I do

Pitter patter like
the hammers of
rain on the tin roof,
but my feet are in
rhythm. Jog will you,
jog.

Cold and blue, my skin
shows the roots and
highway of veins. I am sat
down, and grabbed like
a quick decision
purchase.

They twine it around my arm and
tell me to make a fist. I'm numb,
I say, I feel a fever.
The fat oily man
nods and
smiles.

Who's this lady,
tapping on my forearm?
Blue-blood, let me
go.
They're tapping into
the oil wells,
I think.

5 vials now, my pupils
are blurred. I am
spurting red into the
tube, this is not
the Gross
Clinic.

After it is
ceased,
a quick snap and
tape on the gauze.
I'm shoo'd out,
go eat.

She said we were
running for errands,
and that it'd be good
for me to get out of
bed.

I arrive at the building,
so bold and formidable
tint windows,
venom.

It's for your own good,
she said. It's for the
best. I'm taken to
a blast of white
rays

The women peeled off
my clothes, and
told me to spread,
hold up my hands and
jump.

Humiliation and nakedness
is this how it has become?
Feverish, and shiver
I am swung a gown
on, but not the lace
one like
home.

Soft and smooth, I am not
married yet but
the bed knows me
well.

Jazz hands, sucker
punch, daintily like
ballet -- I am in
full bloom.

Crescendo with my
fingertips, petunia,
rose. The bed knows
me well.

Warm, disgust,
the ****** of the orchestra.
Plush, a slight stir
and a deep breath.

I marry in the bowels
of the night, ink,
glint stars. Lovingly and
pressing, I do
my own.

The feeling of love trudges
through the thick flesh of
my muscles like some
Siberian prisoner
through the
snow.

The sun hits my bed in
a blanket of heat
jagged from the blinds,
I have steady breaths,
I am an old
dog.

He will kiss me, and
our mouths will mesh
like the gears of detroit's
factories in their
prime.

In June you'll be a year older,
another flight of wisdom and
deciphering. I'll be in my gown,
powder room and all, putting
lilacs into my pores. The fig
tree outside will be in it's
ripest bloom, and the
juice will run down my lip
just how you like
it.

****** bride, the angels
cry, thunderstorms outside
are their tantrums.
Find me in the reading chair
fixated on you, the
sun seeping onto the floor
like spilled honey.

Yes honey, I do,
I do. I am in love, O
cuckoo.
I waded through the cesspool
and found the void,
illumination,
reaping light from this
boy.

My voice is hot and
sweaty, horse race runner,
jockey stride.
Kiss me on that
California beach ---
high tide.

Ruffle the feathers
Take a big step on stage now
Golden and disgust

It's a thick blue
awning, sludge and
sap. Wax trudging and
churning
in my
bowels.

I lay in the
bed, like some
sort of fat cat --
just eaten my fair share
of mice.

Disgust and
green, bubonic and
glee, can I
smile? Can I dial?

Can I
laugh. I've gotten
off the phone with
the quack.

Medication so
raw and sore like
boils redder than
dawn and more,
chinese red and
yellow ochre,
feed me nausea,
until it's
over.

Sometimes I believe the
only reason my lips are
flickered on my face in this
grand fire of red,
is to say I love you and
kiss you and to
do dark things that
keep behind the
shades.

These ligaments O
What were they
created
for? To feel your
gooseflesh and
blushing
face, warm like
petunias

And I am your
carnation, daisy,
flower. My busy
bee, scholar,
how everything glitters
gold with
you.

What a strange instrument of
desire - how can it be? I
am cut out of flesh and
twenty god forsaken years
later I am wanting another
form inside
me.

I do not feel
it.
Warm, is
that how it
is?
I am
shown.

A grand view
of the miraculous
***** of
man. He is
curt, red and
ready.

Will my body react as
an infant does to
citrus? Lemon cadmium,
squeeze and
shriek?
Charred, boiling hot
like thick wax.

I'm in my little inferno and
Mt Vesuvius groans from
the deep, rich earth.

Bow down to me,
kiss my leather soles
heel and all,
beanstalk man.

Lilac perfume
powder and aroma
laden and heavy in
the air, -- languid.

Writhe and
seethe, and
smash! Rebuild and
kick and
crash.

O, my blue
eyes and sun spot
hair. I am the harp,
you pull the
strings so
well.

boy-flesh,
death rattle,
I arise out of youth
doused in kerosene.

I bask in the sun
like an old farm
cat, illuminated--
cadmium yellow.

inside my heart is a hive of 10,000 bees,
buzzing and pouring honey,
sap, through my veins --
thickly, slowly,
in throes of
ecstasy

left myself to
desiccate, without
ripening. a drop
from him is
all I need.

animal, beast --
come from hibernation,
reveal yourself in
a grand
naked
finale.

a soft glitter, stream
out like a
faucet.

I felt it! I
felt the ailment.
And all I could
see was red.

suppurate, seethe,
writhe and let me
see your teeth

I take it in
moderation like
waves in the current

news on the
block, guillotine ---
shock me, put the stickers
on

And all I could
see was red.

how foolish can it
get, everyone dabbles
about love, about
rain,
break up like
bread

recycled, steel mill
these alloys have
broken fast
just like your
pity parties
and all the balloons of
cowardice

Us girlies in our
cots, our beds,
rise at the sound of the
morning gunshot.

half past 8, the blinds
bolted shut like
some sort of gilded
prison

put on these socks
now, o
rubbered and friction
you don't want
hepatitis
now.

the bell jangles, no
that must be the phone and
8 foxes of the den
stand in a
line.

phone home will
you, doktor calls with
your paper cup. run like
you're freed and
ceased.

lukewarm water, O
now is she on Lithium?
nine hundred. the
morning gunshot

fires into the
ceiling speakers,
ringing like the
salvation army.

petunia, warm aflutter
the wetness of the tongue
lingers through the lobes,
frontal

synapses like fire O
can I feel it?
hear me now.
heal me

now, sweet and soft
blooming. a full bush
the complete garden

honey and pollen O
Honey, I hear your call
busy bee you, reading
the news

Now is the time.

stab me in the
dark, my bowels
purple and slink
washing my dishes
in the kitchen
sink

humiliate, mandible and all
disgust me, now you've got
some real bile gall

spleen and liver
golden shiver

my toes curl at
the thought of you
cold blue hands,

delight askew
my cold cream
fingers, dipped in white

aroma of violets
ridden of blight
the fluid runs softly

burning and fume
I am naked and
starved, awfully
eschewed.

white albatross, these white
coats fluttering. only here
to fill up a paper cup--
now, go shower

the cold water stings
like hail on jupiter
I manage this.
O albatross

naked, abject,
look at this wretch
dose me and love me
with your wings spread

heal me now
with your sharp nose and
sleeked back hair
languid, cot, albatross.

a fox den of estrogen
sound the trumpets,
a grand fanfare,
I manage this.

yellowed and maroon
blood testing room
little *****
flutter your coats O

Albatross
lock the door
close the blinds
and step quietly, for

my blood boils
differently than you,
I hunch like a vulture,
ceased, no prey

O, albatross