you remain at all times,
in my mind, not so much
a whisper  but more of
a dull scream that i cannot
stiffle, even after years of
relentless practice

at times, in the night,
i awake frightened,
sweating, my mind
bloated with the fear
that maybe you ****** up
again

my eyes sore from
raining in my sleep

i reach out to touch
anything that might
assure me that it was
only a nightmare
& that you have
not just yet embarked
on yet
another
suicide mission

before, these dreams
were my  reality &
you never seemed to
be able to keep the
two apart for very
long:

the sleep,
the bills,
the ***,
the drugs,
the drink,
the endless charade
of doctors, bottles,
& new clothing
i watched in awe,
petrified by terror

but
despite the promises,
despite the progress,
you are forever hell bent
on sinking & leaving
no captives alive

you remain in my mind
at all times, breeding
anxiety, like spores
spreading their cancer

they are going to
eat you alive &
you let them
willingly
how can i carry that in me too?

i fear, maybe
you have contaminated
me as well :
to have absorbed you,
repulses me & i'm forever
purging these feelings
******* full circle


my anger, my void, my mind
bloated with memories of your
half-shell & filmsy pharmaceutical courage
you were eventually swallowing
everything you could devour
your consumption : horrifying

at least, before you
pretended to be full
dollar, appointment =
attention, satisification
if only temporary

now, your eyes lie flat,
you have become absolutely
nothing & it's the something
that rots my joy & agitates the
the demons you've passed on

still,
i ran away but you are never far,
the telephone brings your
contagion, manifest in words
i hear it in your voice
i cringe at the dial tone,
i tremble when you pick up
what bad news now?

at 15, she said she hoped
you would just die, i never
had the courage to agree:
preferring the slow boil;
the one that encourages
the fungal growth of your
disease. it takes root
everywhere.


you put me at dis-ease woman

die or don't.
antidote or arsenic?

enlève ta peau & viens avec moi à la lune.
réveillons tout ce qui dort dans nos squelettes,

montre-moi ce qui te regarde dans le miroir,
& puis raconte-moi qu’ils te chuchotent,

as-tu peur du noir comme moi?
te caches-tu dans l’ombre comme moi?

sais-tu qu’un jour, on sortira d’ici?

english translation
take off your skin & come with me to the moon
we'll wake up all that sleeps in our skeletons

show me what looks back at you in the mirror
& then, tell me what they whisper to you

are you afraid of the dark like me?
do you hide in the shadows(the shade) like me?

do you know that, one day, we'll get out of here?

When I am alone & often in the dark,
persistent questions sneak into my mind,
screaming incessantly in a quiet whisper,
Maybe I am not ready for all of this ?
Maybe I’ll fail, fall down & end up picking
shreds of broken glass from my tiny knees
for as long as clocks chime & time leaps forward

Maybe I’ll bleed & never find the right way to
hide the scars that might manifest themselves
upon my already well-travelled body.
I have so many already & they may ask
Why does she continue to leap in bounds ?
Does she not see her skin is already tarnished?

Indeed, maybe I’ll never find myself in others
Maybe I’ll never know what comfort feels like
& maybe, I’ll never have peace within
but good god, I have never said no to
anyone, anything when I felt it call my name
I have lived, have laughed & have cried
as if every moment were the first & last

I have felt as much as I am capable of
Have given myself time & time again,
Have let others feed themselves on my vulnerability
(I imagine that my affection tasted like flowers
Sweet & in full bloom, freshly cut in springtime)
I hope that they ate to their full (& never forgot the taste)

It was of no cost to me (save an ephemeral sadness)
I always seem to rise from the ashes
& so maybe I am no Fool for having hushed
those Sirens’ voices in my mind
I fell down & yet, always stood up

Maybe I will be forever unsure of many things
but I know, I have always known
that I am a lover & I shall love
It is of no sacrifice & I am no martyr
only ever, a mortal attempting flight

There’s a new sort of current that runs through his body,
an electric sort of freedom freshly granted, just weeks ago.

Once, he wrapped up the neurosis, folding with great care.
Firmly closed the heavy parcel & then bidding farewell,

he exhaled the parasitic cancers that only ever sought
to eat him alive & made such honest efforts to survive.

quite ironic: that necrosis dying upon a funeral pyre
& then he cut his hair & never felt lighter

Like he could fly
& he did.

*(high above the ceremonial smoke)

months ago,
when you left,
why did you leave
all the doors open ?

why did you not
shut the windows,
or look behind you ?
you were still welcome

I followed you, your path
until the crumbles
became so scarce
that I could go no further

I turned about & retreated
but your smoke still lingered
& your presence hung about.
the hope was suffocating

& now a draft haunts
my room, it gets cold
but I cannot bring myself
to turn the lock & shut you out

for hope, that maybe you’ll return
for fear, that you likely won’t

the hands of the clock
raced forward so quickly
& I, well
I only wanted them to stop.
To give your hands
the leisure of a slow expedition
(from the crown of my head
to the chasm)
I would have swallowed a rain cloud
Believe me, I would (have)
*et il y aurait toujours eu de la place pour toi *

Alas, in my time,
my mind, grew thorns
& when I found no way
to do away with doors,
I fixated upon those silver paths
to your hips
(which hung around like carcasses in a wallflowers’ Sahara)
I found a note out of tune,
and paint crumbling from the ceiling.

*puisque tu n’as jamais fermé la porte,
je me suis jetée par la fenêtre!

father ****** your sister,
as it goes, as it always goes
and mom is out running errands,
spending that hard earned dollar
on white bread & fruit juice
that’ll just go bad in the cupboard

yellow tv static fills the room
& you’ve always hated those
glasses of milk, half-empty
lying about the house
like they were occupying
a foreign country at war

jack is in the shower,
touching himself, crying
‘cause no one ever holds him
or told him it was okay to do that
this **** will stick with him
for decades, at the least

tuesday night, mid-summer
your best friend is on line,
******* about that new pair
of jeans, the ones that ripped
right open, just yesterday
when she tripped & fell


the neighbor is whining to his mistress
something about his lonely wife
meanwhile she’s somewhere else,
cashing his checks,going to
buy herself something pretty
just to make herself feel right


*& you, glued to the couch
watching the wall, praying
for telekinesis, hoping that
if you stare long enough,
it might give way & let
you out of this box

so you pose that question
and yes, i feel quite well
what exactly were you expecting?

that I still be molting my petals
like some relentless flower
under an anonymous summer heat?

i think i’ve drank ‘til my thirst,
swallowed raindrops whole.
For which, I itched from the roots.

But these days, in a somber autumn
a passing, capricious wind
won’t ******* down.

I’ve got hands of my own
and I’ve been keeping them to myself
Sleep alone & let the dreams invade.

It’s enough to keep me alive.
And I still dance in the train.
I still gulp the eyes of strangers.

(none of which sparkle,
but I can see more than a face)
"Hold me, hug me, love me"

I don’t say it much more
'cause there's no use in asking
People only give what they’re looking for

Don’t open your mouth to utter
“you’re growing further away”
Don’t remind me
that the Atlantic stretched 4 miles last night,
or that Louisiana is sinking at a rapid pace

I do not care
I can only think of myself


I can see that the sun doesn’t shine at home like it does here,
How come your skin doesn’t seem as thick as mine does now?

I’m sorry but
the only thing that calls my name at night is the smell,
of that sticky sweet heavy dew that clings to the morning,
on the nights I drove when I shouldn’t have
on those nights when I learnt what regret tasted like

I want to replace that thirst
Scratch that, I don’t want to be thirsty any more

Last night, I woke up to snakes in my bed
(there were never any snakes on that island)
but at 6 am they were plenty around me
& I slithered as well.

That child was a phantom, dead
& you’ll have to pay for this
one day or another
(all that white death spilling out of its tiny mouth)
I felt, not sad, only neglected

Alas, I’ll never be the Queen of Nihilism
& I’ll probably never cross the Mississippi
but last December, I dipped my foot in her current

the water was filthy,
factories polluted the sky

but I’m trying & still I’ll try

& I am not sorry

une semaine serpentine,

des pommes empoisonnées pendent d’un arbre perché,

j’en ai mangé jusqu’à la rupture,

et puis sept soleils sont morts, l’un après l’autre,

mais l’horloge ne s’en est pas rendu compte

et depuis

des poussières ont envahi ma poitrine,

ce qu’il y avait avant, je ne sais plus,

mais je n’arrive plus respirer …

mes poumons sont gonflées par une fumée noire

pendant qu’une brume funèbre m’enveloppe le cerveau

et ces jours-ci je n’avale que mes larmes

peut-être ….

quand je ne serai plus qu’un squelette,

je pourrai disparaître en toute tranquillité

de cette terre étrange

où les bêtes parlent à l’envers dans une langue inconnue

entre-temps, j’avale la mienne dans l’espoir de m’étouffer

d’où vient l’homme primordial

d’où vient cette femme lâche

Young man
Words tumble out of your mouth,
sloppily,
Please, show some restraint

The bitter gave birth
to budding trees and
now I’ve come to know
the color of anguish.

Oh,how now,it tastes so shiny,
like iron, 100 shades of silver
Your lips are burning like a shell.
but I simply cannot fill you.

Love, you already know this,
I suppose this is why,
in your mind’s eye,
You see me folding neatly into your box.

Don’t bend me,
I won’t break.
Springboards or slinkies,
The bounce will bruise your baby-face.

Teeth, flesh, scars and pupils,
You expand and gasp for air,
feeding the fire.
I fear it may engulf you entirely.

I have no roots.
Clip my feathers,
Cover my eyes.
I could salt your garden.

Have you ever seen glass shatter ?

You’re stepping over me,
head fixed towards the sky.
All while staring straight through my skull,
and telling me I’m beautiful

But you won’t even look at me

Excuse me,
but sometimes my teeth feel tight
as if the space between weren’t space enough
It’s not,
It never is at night.
Excuse me for speaking freely
but I think I’ve earned the right.
I think
I’ve earned the right


Let’s just be honest here.
Let me just tell the truth for once
More often than not, I feel confused.

I grow impatient,
when my phone doesn’t ring,
when your name begins to sound far away,
but I won’t ever call you
and even speaking about you makes me feel *****,
like my tongue just finished tracing the some rotten peach fuzz.

(I’m allergic to pit-fruits but I love the taste,
I love
when the juice falls from my lips
then my skin turns red and I itch.
It makes me feel special
but then again I’m stupid)

Don’t spit in the left-over soup.
Oh but I do
Don’t bite the hand that feeds.
Oh but I do

I’ve got two plants in my room
but I can’t bring myself to
water them.
I just leave them under the sun,
hoping they’ll stay green
and grow.
It wasn’t me who put them there to begin with
so don’t act as if it’s my fault when they die.

I ask myself, aloud,
then silently
over and over
why can I not walk down the stairs,
why can I not check the mailbox,
why is that bottle of milk you bought
still rotting alone in my fridge?

I’m not responsible if I didn’t act
but nothing occurs if I don’t.

Christ, I curse myself.
Be a woman,
not a girl,
Go, go out in the world
and stop living in your head.

Nourris ta misère & je ferai pareil

Me faire gonfler sous cette peau douce

Prendre du plaisir dans la douleur : le Paradoxe

Au moins que ça remplit ce vide saccagé

Au moins qu’il mangeait des fleurs

Ces Fleurs du Mal et de la mélancolie

Comme rien n’est laid lorsque l’on ignore la Beauté

It comes, sneaks in
slowly, quietly.
Often at times,
I don’t even notice
its subtle arrival
‘til I’m being taken away
by waves, I know not how
or why to swim

Then I’m starring off
into the distance,
fixating on an endless crack
on the wall, it’s always there
I know I’m being occupied
by this guest of a geist
& I’d like to push you out,
keep this persistent phantom
of ugly things from taking me over

Just give me the chance to breath,
before you pull me under ?
Annonce your arrival ?
& don’t wear that mask ?
I already know your face


Don’t lie ?
oh, there is never any use
in talking to you, your rubble

Never, any
at all

Come, chase me down
butterfly the Atlantic
& land in my bed
I’ll catch you up
on the past 5 years

Feed you the distance
Taste your vulnerability
Exercise the fatality
you expelled in to me
when I was still open

the Power
the Control
Now, I’d love to
swallow you whole

she, without teeth, only little remainders,

hard up against the Jacuzzi outside,

took what she wanted & danced before them all

before, she -mostly being repressed,

contained, if you will.



the memories, pure trash, summers’ parties

with the most beautiful carelessness,

submerged herself in a divine liquor,

a charming firefly floats about the room

spitting venom if you will.





that boy, the nameless older one,

of little importance, only a spongy vessel

to which she could transfer her overgrowth

under effects, she set herself free,

a glorious arson if you will



in the morning, amongst the laughter

& living a sobriety all too familiar,

she wondered who saw her core,

& if they wanted to see more?

curious, if you will

I was born twice,
once when the moon
was burning up
and then again,
when you whispered
my name for the first time.

I pressed a flower
in a book
to mark the date
when you hung
words, lost
somewhere in
my shelter.

I felt then
alive
for the first time
since I took that
primordial breath
and  lungs expanded,
I was hoping
you’d stay.

They say,
all that glitters is not gold
but your new wave voice
sent shivers down my spine
and I spent
what seemed like
an eternity
trying to shed my skin.

But then,
I was nothing
if not a bundle
of nerves & ashes
and you let me
exit.
Mind the door,
lest it hit in you on the way out

Here, we are alone, here, we are each other,
Intertwining like vines in the sun,

You’re not holding back, not even a little bit,
You unravel, you come undone

We count the scars, not the seconds,
As we shed our skin & become one,

I have the found proper placement,
Here in this moment, in my submission
To all the things I’ve kept suppressed,
& my weakness is glorifying & free

now i live in Paris
& content myself with
sticky solid chocolate
hash , that **** ain’t as
good as the dank
i was smoking
when I lived on the river
with 3 boys & a ****
& le désespoir totale

we slept at dawn
together in beds
spread out like lions
on the savanna
they never laid a hand
on my quiet body
they always laughed
at my jokes & held me
when i needed it


my eyes were like
wells
when i drank whiskey
out of cups & when
i loved that melancholic
cowboy who came
from oil, with so much
money he didn’t
know where to buy
happiness

the pride dissipated
my love & the drinks
remain & well the cowboy
still cheats on his wife
now i smoke spliffs
& leave behind the crystal
smelly  mota

i don’t get as high
but i sure as hell don’t

**get as low

Amongst,
the rhythm
and teeth
I thought,
it pacifies,
quietly
so quickly.

see now
how tightly,
our arms
have been
tied behind
our backs
(and it was
us who
bought
the cord)

and yet,
i flail my tongue
still,
hoping to
trap a square
that could
neutralize
all that
sad acid
rotting in
your gut

we
know
nothing
of the brain
and even
less of
the heart

but I feel
paralyzed
enough
to reach out

endless people in the red room,
spinning, a massive trap abloom
just spiders on acid, wrapping up their prey

the twinkling chandelier hung,
i’d like to hang about, maybe hang myself
dim the lights & let the Fools’ charade progress

glass drinks & the vapid women,
all with waists that shrink
drink, drink, they’ll skip their dinners

i’ll be choking in the corner,
hugging the wall or some nameless one
it doesn’t really matter at this point

scene bloated with endless empty words,
the hall set ablaze by this social abyss
crawling up the wall like vines with claws *

there are holes  everywhere
let me pass the hour blowing smoke rings
lest the poison I contain be spilt *

lest the walls crumble
lest the clocks tell the time
lest the song repeats

I dreamt
& in this dream,
I was happy.

Rivers flowed,
& the magnetic
poles of the earth
were not switching

Things were calm.

I should have known
a storm was afoot.

I dreamt
& in this dream,
you appeared.

Pinching me
at the waist
as you always did.

With those shining white
American teeth.
& those laughing eyes
Laughing, smoking, complaining.

Come back to me
Come back to me


You made me want to swim upstream
despite having already smoothed over
one hundred thousand river rocks.

I dreamt
& in this dream
we were happy.

It was but a dream, I know

a garden of earthly bodies & their trapings,

sweat left, spilling hours of embraces,

left here to outline an endless path of dust,

only for, someday, a new Phoenix to retrace




a graveyard of long dead movements,

the ones i can’t ever seem to recall,

save a pull, a push, & a quiet going under,

i choke on the depth of their empty faces


float at the bottom, swallow the current,

lungs bloated by the poison of the hour,

the dancing game of mirrors comes to a halt,

they filter out one by one for me to cower

  

the moment emptied, i resurface only to wade

but the proof remains



& my bed is no longer made.

heliocentric; life abound & abundant too

it stretches far beond its reaches

who dared to say that light could not

exist in the trenches of “empty” frontiers?

-

it was not I, nor so the sun…

it is those; who can only absorb, who

can not reflect ( or at the very least

refract…)

-

heliocentric; I am, as well as utterly

transparent. & when you are blinded

by the inverse; I will cast shadows

where there once were none

-

& in the brand new silhouettes;

I hope you will see the outlines

of what has always been,

of what will continue to be

-

you shall not be alone

you shall not remain unknown

f

heavens’ whisper, i fall to my knees
& collapse in the ephemeral weight

following the curve of your spine
until it becomes the small of your back

& fall further further further
ever further.

the air is thick as morning arrives,
my mind dances somwhere in the sky

oh, how splendid it is to be mortal
& to feast on the nectar of gods

You keep your feelings
locked away in closets
on the 2nd floor of
the house you were raised in.

You hang your anger
on brass doorknobs,
tossed on display
absentmindedly.

It’s been a decade since
a pair of lips graced your own
and now, you never feel
quite at ease.

The candles in your bones
are flickering.
Soon the windows on your face
will melt.

But you must see that these days
as there is dust collecting on the mirror
and all your razors have grown dull
You keep sweeping in circles

I asked you to love yourself
while waiting for the arrival
of those guests for whom
you left open the front door

But then again, you’ve haven’t
yet invited anyone in
and certainly, as you remind me,
nobody will ever come knocking

So who will be there to make you feel at home?

she spoke softly,
in a low growling whisper,
dripping with the twang
of a proper young lady,

her hands folded,
neatly in her lap,
clutching one another
with a white-knuckle grip...

She held her head heavily,
like that of a neglected orchid,
as she said, rather composedly,
"I'll hear nothing of that"

Wrists exposed, I bled for months on end
Hoping maybe you’d put a stop to the leak
But that day never came and my suspicions
confirmed that maybe all that seeping black came from you …

As time passed, your words grew sharper, like knives
Bull’s eye of my chest, your aim was off
I’d known had I not fragmented my mirror
Sometimes feelings make clouds of my mind

In fields, where beautiful things once were born,
In fields, where I slept and dreamt endless dreams,
Battles ravaged on and all that greenery shed its surreal color
Those fields now salted dead by an eternal cascade

Before you lay yourself down,
check once, twice, thrice
that you’re not sleeping with the enemy
and that he has got a pulse

He’s stumble-hungry,
& ****** to the sky
manifest destiny
in her naive eyes

Yet amongst the
ethanol mirrors
and heavy smoke,
this sharply curious
array of odd pieces
begs the question:

I am not vestigial, am I ?

Posing some lovely injury,
he bares his hands-
& in his silence,
he admittedly fails to ratify

*I am,  I am

i want you to tell me why
when all has been said & done
you’ve said nothing at all

I sat beneath you,
when your colors were fading,
in the dusty autumn
of thoughts and songs
you burried in the sand.

Furry, amber tracks of absent vines,
outlining the spine I had only dreamt of
Cowardice and missing chlorophyl,
I hoped to dizzy myself,
chasing the rings of your voice

I friviouslessly kissed the wrinkles
that gathered around your eyes
like ridges do that of a tree's bark.
I caught falling leaves
and told myself the spring
would soon return
whilst you rotted from the inside-out.

i do not need a savior
nor do you

there is no sacrifice to make
there is no glory to aspire to


& there is nothing admirable
about the way Jesus died

the fool never needed to
play the martyr

his death: insignificant,
the consolation: void

there is no Sin
no price to pay

There are stars in his eyes,
and a knife in his hands,

He never felt so heavy
with that perrenial void.

So he’ll swallow all he can
in desperate & deliberate gasps

He’s made himself sloppy,
swaying and stupefied,
saying justify my pathetic effort
or I’ll cut you open
and take what pieces I need.

He just can’t leave empty-handied,
God forbid, he lose face by asking.
*I’ll cut you open little thing
and show you the color of vacancy.

(you tell me that happiness exists
and I beg you to allow me
a few moments, to dissolve
those smiles plastered on that
family portrait you hang so proudly)

Exhibit A:
a medecine cabinet full of pills,
and a woman whose throat is a bit too loose,
whose head is a bit too woozy,
from trying to erase those 10 odd years,
when her uncle knew the insides,
her legs better than he knew his wife’s,

Have you seen
the man who prays too hard,
for redemption at some backwoods’ altar,
begging God and all those who witness
for forgiveness of sins he has yet to commit ?
He has forgotten how to sleep,
pacing and chasing far too many a dream over a hill.

Find next,
in a girl whose body feels like space,
forever bending over her knees,
to pull that monumental trigger
lying at the back of her empty throat.
that boom-boom, flash of violent thrashing
and a quiet flushing of the toilet
She never could quite remove what felt so heavy

Turn your eyes up the stairs,
to a nervous women who runs
a scalding bath, hoping that
maybe if her skins burns hot enough,
then she’ll be washed of all that
hellish responsiblity, submerging
the animal circus in her that’ll
paint her tombstone peasant anti-ghost


allow me a moment to clarify:
not all that lies at the surface
speaks to the distance
a soul can travel through time,
allow me a moment to make
an exhibition of struggle
and remind you that
nothing is ever quite what it seems

I have to say I like these hours of morning best,
When the sunlight pours in the cracks of
the open window beside your open bed,
When you’re still lost in the lands of dreams…

There’s a faint happiness in your face,
Eyes closed, you have escaped awareness,
Which I consider your biggest burden,
& I’m happy to see you relieved of this

Sure enough, given enough dawn light
you’ll return to your familiar scenes,
Wake up to put on the clothes you wear,
like armor, like a shield to make you stable

You don’t have to be like that with me,
I’ll take you the way you are, preferring
the vulnerability & hope in your nakedness,
In my own dreams, I hope to see yours

I have to say I like these hours of morning best,
When you slip in & out of the here & now
I’ll rub the sleep from your sullen eyes,
I’ll put my kisses & hands on your body

Hoping to keep you in only the places,
Just the spaces, where you can be free.

Open your brain my love,
have just one more to sip,
I like how you close your
eyes & tremble those lips

She murmured: mind yourself,
what matters always rots,
what they insist I need
can never hit the spot

Leaning against cold stone,
and licking backs of glass,
I’m hungry for love as
she splinters my fleshy mass

These things that they’re selling,
on big billboards, in glances,
only ever half as full,
as these drunken romances

The way things were when
sunlight started to terrorize the morning
and then eventually, the evening sky.
My chest thumped at a glacial pace.
A slow hibernating thaw.
Those days I slept quite easily
whilst my mind ran away with the time.
Taking time with clowns & thieves alike.
Sponges indeed, sponges after all.
You crept in one night, hanging moons beneath your eyes.
I had exploded.
I closed.
On the loom, black lace then white cotton.
In my room, a screaming then a humming.
Cigarettes scattered the floor like sacrifices to some distant deity.
Who must have heard my prayers.
Something about all your silence
threw blankets on my lungs
and off my bed.
In your youth,
I feel soft.
Joy, I want more
just you.
you. you. you
&

when the mail came
unmarked
I said I don’t want it-  return to sender!
I do not want this ****, again.junk mail is for the birds
I read books & letters, I do not open up
unknown packages for fear of ingesting anthrax
like that American did
a few years ago.

but it showed up once more
this time patiently waiting on my doorstep,

what
admirable
persistence

I thought to myself this must be a sign
of something good inside
(like the loving people that never give up on anyone else, ever)

intrigued by the beautiful wrapping,  I took it inside
& let it sit on my table  
for a few weeks,
half expecting something to happen, but
it did not want to make itself at home amongst
my masterpieces

so I moved it about,
looked for its place

it did not fit.
so I threw it on the shelf

Surprised by its lack of weight.
this **** thing must be empty !
why had I not wondered what was inside before?
(I’ll rip open that ******* & see what it’s made of)

but instead, into the fire I threw it
& the ashes disappeared shortly afterwards



the shelf remains empty
my hands warm,
the dust still unsettled
but by what ?

If the world weren’t divided
by the East and the West,
I’d be able to tell you that
my love was endless
Like habitual summer rains
that eclipse the afternoon sky

Maybe I’d be more a storm
and less a drizzle
Maybe I’d rattle your windows
and leak in through the roof
But I’m forever collecting as drops
as the morning dew does year-round

But as the world turns
So does my mind
And I wouldn’t ask for it to halt
I wouldn’t dare to ask