When I was
Probably five years old
I bit into a sandwich
It tasted good
It tasted like biting into something guilty
That was when my mom said
"Rowan, that's ham. That's pig, Rowan."
I spat the piece of pig into my hand
My throat dry and crowded

That was when I knew

Steeples scraping at the tired blue sky
A little boy with bright blue eyes
A blue bug flies up a lady’s dress
The radio plays a Blue Christmas
The ocean mirrors a pale blue cloud
The stars are watching from their blue shroud
A dark blue ship is sailing in
The dock is blue and crumbling
A dark man fishes with his bluest pole
Services end, a blue bell tolls
A boy and girl, pick blueberries
Her blue skirt caught on a thorn tree
I’m feeling blue, I’m not sure why
You wore a suit, a light blue tie
The minutes change the clock is blue
My shoes and eyes and sorrow too
So I drag a blunt blade across a blue vein
And this red blood pours out my blue pain

Red is the color of apples so delicious
Orange is the color of oranges and fishes
Yellow is the color of the sun in the sky
But don't look at it now, it'll burn the retina of your eye!
Green is the color of the grass and trees
Blue is the color of blueberries
Indigo is just a name for really dark blue

And Violet rhymes with nothing
But neither DO YOU!

An ugly man with crooked teeth and eyes as sharp as knives
Goes forth with axe to chop the trees, and end all of their lives
The plants they scream and raise their voice, then calm as he begins
His blade is sharp, they have no choice; their cries are drowned by wind

The air is chilled and so is he, corrupt old crazy loon
He chops them down so eagerly, and night is coming soon
With wood in hand, he leaves this land of life put to its end
And homeward bound, and through a field, the land is wide open

Day almost done, the setting sun is quickly getting gone
And kneeling down, he picks a crown of daises, one by one
And standing up, he gently cups the jewelry in his hand
With tender care that you would not expect of such a man

Into a house with crooked roof, and spaces in the walls
The man sets down his wood and with a sweet accent he calls
And little girl, with golden hair and eyes as sharp as knives
Comes running then, and reaches up, with joy and happy cries

And so the man, the ugly man, with eyes as sharp as knives
Places the crown on his daughter’s head, and kisses her golden eyes.

Oh, how I would love to trap you inside of me
Perhaps beneath that cage that is my ribs
Behind those bars that are my bones

And I’d hope they were strong enough to keep you from leaving.

A brooding mess
Of bones and flesh
The caressing tide, a soft set of fingertips
Eyes cast down
Face Fixed in Frown
   but, the curve
of a warm body and another warm body
   heals.

That curve carries
and gentle waves find their way
back to my body
                       and yours.

I kept the pages of your heart
Bookmarked
Knowing that one day I’d lose my place
In them
And that you might
Open that book again, and show me where I fit

A carrot escapes his spoon
as he eats his soup alone

The table is set for two
but there’s no one else at home

The broth from the plastic bowl
dribbles down his chin

The bread is growing mold
but it doesn’t bother him

He sits back in his chair
and closes his blue eyes

Birds chirp in the chill spring air
and he is satisfied

There is a call from the man next door
to men in clean white suits

He's not breathing anymore
with his face in the bowl of soup

Cupid’s ***** must be candy hearts and colored cards
His rough night must end in heaving twisted over the toilet bowl, boxes of chocolates and caramels dumping into its porcelain chamber
Naked, he probably limps into his canopied room
Pulling shut the purple curtains, climbing heavily into his bed of roses
Head throbbing, beautiful blonde curls drenched in sweat
Waking up soaked in fallen tears; flower petals

I watch a lost warrior – Dido’s Aeneis
Wandering, a lost lamb
Protruding from the earth, a sore thumb
Stuck out
Uncomfortable
Obviously and avidly running
Into the arms of the earth
Mother
Burial and birth
Consecutive forms,
A staged production.

Like Dido for her warrior – I lose sleep
Feeling as though some plot or undertaking is slipping by me
Like Socrates and his dreams – I stand on solid beliefs
But I do not want to surrender – necessarily
Traveling here I was unsure
From another place
I am – you know that
I feel unfamiliar sometimes. I feel awake.
Often, my voice matches my thoughts
Often – it does not.
Spill me! Like a dark, red wine
Over your grey rug
Dull and dreary
It needs some brightening up!

The sky above the sea misses the water
once the sun rises, and the skyline sits between them, and I miss you like that.

And, I miss you like the half-blazing cigarette misses those
warm lips
and the breath behind them, that would come in sharp, teasing drags
because the tobacco is nothing without that breath, and that ember goes out

and I think that without you
I might go out, too.

two birds seen floating silent with a breeze
one level with the other, straight ahead
one bird is flapping wings, while one at ease
and sitting on the wind, its merry bed

at ending wind the gliding bird must fly
and while the working bird will not lose height
its feather’s light at scooping up the sky
the second bird will lack the skill of flight
until the breeze comes back that bird will fall
and squawking wildly try to grasp the air
not practiced in the art of wings at all
but used to catching luck and resting there

but till that first strong breeze doth truly die
both birds will stay, the same, up in the sky

We didn’t used to be this way, (I don’t think)
All I want is for you to hold me

We talked about staying in bed
For the rest of the year
Hibernating, like a couple
Of bears in the snow

I would have, if I’d known about winter

Four sockets stare loftily into the room
Surveying their surroundings
Three holes in each face
Two eyes and a mouth
Unwillingly, they look shocked.

I am the imbalance
The flaw
I am the ladder in the stocking
I am the beam in the floor that creaks
The wilted leaf of spinach hiding in the crisp salad bowl

I am the ballerina’s crooked back
The tiger’s unfinished stripe
The last, crustless piece of pie
That no one really wants
Someone polite will eat it
And he will feel unsatisfied
Wanting more

But I cannot give you the crust
And you will feel unsatisfied
And I will feel helpless
I am the spiderweb someone has walked through
I am the space under the door that lets the wind in
The bike whose chain has fallen off

I am the space between us.

Escape! I cried to you – but did you hear?
My faithful voice was muffled by my doubt.
And as I kiss you softly on your ear,
the voice inside my head begins to shout;

It cries to me that I have never known
such kindness, love and friendship as you are.
It pleads, I do not want to be alone!
Like some vain galaxy – all void of star.

My hesitation sits, you look at me
into my eyes, my face an empty page.
And softly say you never asked to be
an actor on this brutal, unfair stage.

And though I wish you wouldn’t take the part,
you will not give it back - you have my heart.

My cheeks are all slimy with her saliva
Why did they have to invite Aunt Jemima?

If my head was made of cheese
And my mouth was made of toast
And my eyes were little peas
And my body was pork roast
If my lips were made of mustard
And my stomach was a melon
if my innards were all custard
And my tongue was just a lemon
And my fingertips were grapes
And my ears were hot dog buns
And my nose was made of cake
And my chin was made of gum
If my toes were made of ham
And my feet were made of beans
And my eyebrows made of jam
And my hair was fresh-picked greens

If all of this were true
It would be a grand old feat
But I wouldn't know if you were my friend...

Or if you just wanted something to eat!!!

You tasted bitter in my dream
     When we kissed
     Tongue to lips
You tasted stronger than you seem
     Chest to chest
     Hips to hips
All my writing recently
Has displayed some form of sexuality
      And I think it fits.

we are walking
fall is ending
leaves, they paint the cold grey ground
crushed and conquered
no defending
as they crunch: a sorry sound.

tea steeping
leaves bleeding
into hot water
steaming
lips parting
lungs breathing
sipping, steadily
air freezing
and now my head is full of steam

you don't like cake
              I like cake, but besides that we agree on things
              I like to think
you wore a red sweater today
my name means Red, berries.
I wanted to hug you but you
                                                                ­      seemed too far away

Perhaps you were quite noble and perhaps you did implore
That men like you should take after the Sipo Matador
So step on the weak oaks, get higher while you can
But while the lizard’s tail grows back, it is “not so in a man”

You climbed into the sunlight full of confidence and pride
At thirty seven thought you’d met the one to call your bride
And proudly then you loved, but alas, did she love you?
Broken but not beaten, you said goodbye to dearest Lou

And now you say that loves high value far precedes its worth
You talk of women as mere pawns of pleasure or of birth
Your taste in fools is lacking and your outlook is quite dim
And while you claim to know all men - you project what is within…

Please help me out, I’m in great pain!
I fell onto a candy cane...

While ******* on my candy, I dropped it to the floor
I wonder if I should even eat it anymore
I decided to pick it up but the floor was slippery
I fell over quickly trying not to hit the Christmas tree
So now I’m sprawled here on the ground,
I really need some help - I just wanted some candy
But I ended up stabbing myself!

At birthday parties, we didn’t like to imagine
What the paper donkey felt like
Being knocked around
By our wooden bats
Swinging blindly, alone
Until it bled beautiful colors
Until it gushed sweet things
And the sweet things told our mouths
“Thank you for releasing us.”

If my heart was a piñata, I would give you a blindfold
And hand you a baseball bat
Spin you around three times
And close my eyes
And we’d swing blindly, together

it rains, and the gutters pound,
and the streets lie down
under that steady rhythm
that finger tapping belly patting rhythm

and we close our eyes
and the window sills get wet because we
left the windows open and that rain
that rhythm only wants to come in
and be our rhythm and sing its song

as our hands keep those same beats
on our bodies like the rain on streets

DO YOU SWEAR NOT TO HURT ME?
Said the scissors to the rock
I  KNOW WE HAVE A HISTORY
BUT I ASSURE I DO NOT MOCK!

The rock looked at the paper
Then he looked back at his feet
I DONT KNOW WHAT TO SAY he said
I THINK YOU'RE REALLY NEAT

The scissors was beside herself
Jumped high into the air
But because she was so gleeful
Snipped off some of paper's hair

So paper screamed and shouted
She was mad with awful rage
And she jumped onto rock's back
As he tried to turn the page

The scissors with confusion
Felt to blame and so she rushed
To try and help the rock
In the process getting crushed

And so the rock got still
Lying covered by the sheet
When paper realized what she'd done
She fluttered to rock's feet

And cried and cried and sobbed
And stared at her split ends

And paper rock and scissors
Would never become friends.

It was Christmas Eve and the house was asleep
I heard a noise downstairs, and went to take a peep
It was Santa! He was there!
With his nose all plump and red
He heard me there behind him,
And turned around and said:
Little girl don’t be afraid I’m here to take you home.
You’ll live with me at the North Pole in a new time zone.
I tried to run away, but before I could look back
Santa picked me up so fast and threw me in his sack!
When I woke up I was dressed in green,
Didn’t recognize myself
And suddenly I realized, I’d been turned into an elf!
So now I’m here at the North Pole, I’m getting used to it
I’m making toys and getting along
With all the other missing kids.

i want to tie you to a chair with lots of spools of string
then put a kettle on to boil and listen to it sing
i wouldn't take it off to cool instead what i would do
is take it right off of the stove and pour it on to you
and then just like the kettle you would probably start to scream
but i would only sweat as i'd be bothered by the steam

In the morning things appear still – shadows
Peter pan sewed his back on but
Sometimes I think I won’t be able to attach my own
Shadow – or head
And it will slip silently to the floor
Eyes closed
The weight of the world
Too much to fathom
Mouth open, tongue lolling
Like a dog’s.

Like a sad clown
I sit and cry
With an umbrella
Opened inside
It is raining
Through the ceiling
Oh, what a terrible,
Silly feeling.

Last night, I was enveloped and stamped under the stars
I was compressed into a supernova and then
Danced on by ten galaxies – their feet consistently in rhythm
Commended as the constellations applauded my smallness
Convinced that I was as bright as they

Last night, I asked the starry sky why it twinkled and
Shuddered above my head
The stars replied that they could not close their eyes
And so – remained winking
Eternally attempting to blink away their tears
Camouflaged entirely by the night’s brilliance

Last night, I was humbled and humored by the stars – willing
Given another opportunity to become celestial for a brief second
Secure, and peacefully remaining in existence
With the rhythm
Of the night sky and I
Cried with the stars
Collapsed and crinkled inside of the world
Crushed
And for a minute, meant more than myself
The world as a part of me, and I, a part of everything else

i dreamt you were a snake
and bit me
and as the venom hit me
you held my hand
and told me i would die
before you kissed me

I drank your cold coffee, when I woke up
You left it to sit there, in a styrofoam cup
How lovely and pleasant, can one person be
Than to leave cold coffee, for little cold me

Valentines day
Orange denim
Moist towelettes
Imitation crab meat
Telling me I’m the only thing that matters to you