“I am the wolf!” I say
As I trot behind the caribou.
I’m salivating and my heart pounds
As I ignore the pain of miles jogged.
“I will never stop running” I say
As I swallow my thirst.
I run on and don’t slow;
Determined to sink my teeth into healthy flesh.


“I’ll never be the coyote” I say.
He desires only weak meat.
He laughs at the idea of a good meal
Stealing any morsel he can find.
“I’m not the coyote” I say
“I want to earn a true dinner.”
I absolve my petty desires
With my passion for the caribou.

--

I run through a field of rabbits,
Past by my potential meals to stop at shore.
I can just make out the lone caribou.
She is alone on her island.
She is beautiful and strong.
She looks me in the eyes - inviting and unafraid.

--

“Alas, I am NOT the wolf…” I say
“I am cunning and swift,
Yet unable to swim to her shore.”
My hunger rumbles as I stare.
“I am the fox” I say
I hope for the caribou,
But I try and try in vain
To fill her void with rabbits and the slain.

A monk sips morning tea,
it's quiet,
    the chrysanthemum's flowering.

Let’s teach one another
all the algorithms
of love.
We can balance
the chemistry
and learn each other’s
foreign languages.
We can walk down the hallways
of each other’s minds
and I can carry your literature.
I will learn the beat
to your music
and you can jot down notes
about the anatomy
of my heart.
Let’s meet in the
solitude of the library
so I can study your history
and
when the time is right,
we can explore the geography
of one another.

I stumble on the ground beneath my feet.
What lies ahead I cannot beat.
The lies, the flair, this oppressive air
Unhinges my nerves and blinds my stare
And tosses me back to worlds unknown
Full of dark shadows and whispers blown.
The berating of limbs and sinking ground
Entangle me whole and push me down
Till darkness is all I see.
No more will Light be my master's key
With which to open my mind and clear my soul
For those thoughts and deeds that once took hold.
Somewhere down this darkened stream
I take hold of firm root, it may seem
Only to be ****** within my chest
Freezing my heart along with all the rest.
No more to see, no longer to stay
My breath is caught fast as I slowly float away.

a cigarette burn
on my thigh
and mascara stains
on my sleeve
-

?,
!.

John Keats
John Keats
John
Please put your scarf on.

When a fire cripples
and comes crashing down,
the burning fireflies
that jump up
                                     and out
are the remnants of
the heat that
burns so intensely at
the center of the blaze.
As they
scatter
frantically
in every direction,
they are filled with joy
to be liberated
from their
benevolent captor
only to regret their
emancipation
moments later as
they dissolve into nothing
in the cold of the night.
Embers littered
across the sand like
stars lying against
the canvas of a
dark winter’s eve
resemble the same pattern
that you left me in;
Free
         but lost.