poems from my most recent self-published collection {name calling}, available on Lulu:
~
[boy with bible]
scissor his hair
with fingers
from the hand
of your longer
arm
picture him
as a hardscrabble
mystic
gay
/ the frog shepherd
~
[entries for loss]
can we stop this talk of the baby cut in half and ask why this town has two graveyards. show me a dog showing an angel where to dig. the brothers have all gone underwater to raise money for hand signals and the sisters have taken from a tale of snowfall an ****** to amnesia’s headstone. the parts of the movie you look at
vanish. it’s my fault there’s a god.
~
[entries for yield]
in laundromat
my stomach
moves
my bed
my blood wears a blue sock
and a fly goes down on melancholy’s crossword
my sister is here to have gum in her hair
and hair
in her mouth
tooth is the ghost beak is not
mom makes us wear most of it home
the animal’s first time as something else
~
[entries for transformation]
i.
is there blood in something born outside,
a history that works in one ear?
ii.
time touches nothing. is the *** of my bruise
/ a scar
~
[entries for water]
seasons by the look and smell of him being beaten.
a hole in a fingerprint. doll overboard.
~
[a letter, silent]
a letter, silent
dropped by a word
into window’s
bible
–
cot, diving board, empty pool. southernmost
search
for earpiece.
–
medusa
her headless
horseman
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 8:09 AM UTC
poems from my most recent self-published collection {name calling}, available on Lulu:
~
[boy with bible]
scissor his hair
with fingers
from the hand
of your longer
arm
picture him
as a hardscrabble
mystic
gay
/ the frog shepherd
~
[entries for loss]
can we stop this talk of the baby cut in half and ask why this town has two graveyards. show me a dog showing an angel where to dig. the brothers have all gone underwater to raise money for hand signals and the sisters have taken from a tale of snowfall an ****** to amnesia’s headstone. the parts of the movie you look at
vanish. it’s my fault there’s a god.
~
[entries for yield]
in laundromat
my stomach
moves
my bed
my blood wears a blue sock
and a fly goes down on melancholy’s crossword
my sister is here to have gum in her hair
and hair
in her mouth
tooth is the ghost beak is not
mom makes us wear most of it home
the animal’s first time as something else
~
[entries for transformation]
i.
is there blood in something born outside,
a history that works in one ear?
ii.
time touches nothing. is the *** of my bruise
/ a scar
~
[entries for water]
seasons by the look and smell of him being beaten.
a hole in a fingerprint. doll overboard.
~
[a letter, silent]
a letter, silent
dropped by a word
into window’s
bible
–
cot, diving board, empty pool. southernmost
search
for earpiece.
–
medusa
her headless
horseman
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