i clung onto a dream
of you loving me
and i held it so tightly
wrapped it up with
a bow in my small arms

and i heaved and heaved
convinced by some string
of unsureness deep inside me
i held the weight as it dragged
my knees to the floor
bowing before you
i made myself tiny

at work in the sandbox
milk toothed Elohim
balance stick, stone and moss
shape continents from dreams

tiny, unfettered fingers
excavate their worlds of sand
things discarded, left to rot
are gold in grimy hands

bark and stones
dead bees and bones
leaves and sleeves
of snakes, outgrown

never too old to learn
never too young to teach
every treasure is swallowed
by the sand on the beach

We explode into a cloud of blood.
A meaty burst of flame and flesh.

You should offer to drive for this road trip.
I need to stare out the window and disappear.

Just for a little while.
Then we can switch.

there’s an ocean in my heart
and it’s drowning out all
i’ve got left to give
it hurts and it whispers
more
until i grow faint
and sick
and tired of it

i can’t remember what i
put there to begin with
but what i did is
breaking me apart

so i will
put myself back together
again
and again

like the moon
I go through

phases

some of my
lights go out

and I become
dull and distant

give me time
they will come

back on

like the moon
I do not ask

for praise or
forgiveness

it is just a
phase

I am going through

I wish our stories
were written
on the same page

if I suffer at this
typewriter
think how I'd feel
among the lettuce-
pickers of Salinas?
I think of the men
I've known in
factories
with no way to
get out-
choking while living
choking while laughing
at Bob Hope or Lucille
Ball while
2 or 3 children beat
tennis ***** against
the wall.
some suicides are never
recorded.