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morning ***** tonics
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*******
white ****** cigarettes
index
Ba-Be

Back dimples,


pg. 22-?
toothpicks
won't pick
the ****
from out beneath your gums

nor will
denial
cauterize the memories
off your nerve endings
Another bad poem in efforts for expulsion
learn to speak slowly
and deliberately

so that  my eyes
might understand you
better
than my ears
Inspired by a reading of Rumi by Tilda Swinton
it's no use,
leave the earth around our tomb alone


there are no flowers left there
for bees to pollinate
with whispers of why we fell
morning
could come
and there would be
no way
to wring
my hands
of their
loneliness
i refuse to do what i'm told

shovel the driveway

why?
the snow's not doing anyone any harm
the concrete is no less cold
when bare
and buffeted by small, stamping feet
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