It was just as I said, cut flowers
making a mess.
Should have let it die on the vine.
No kiss. Just a book
possessed but not read.
Just as I said.

I'll stand here and carve out a place
for myself in this dark mass, a womb in the wax
into which I can climb, warm it up
until it's fragrant of factory.

And inside I'll carve out a place
in my chest for this dark mass,
a wax in the womb to plug
the ache with an imitation of obscurity.

I'd gladly climb
back into your heart
and get drunk on your pulse
again--that
limitless
chamber.

I'd gladly climb
back between your rivers
and feel the power
of everything most ancient and
utterly new
behind, through,
and before me--
speaking
with rippling
mouths
and signs.

You're gone,
though.
Everything is back to
the way it was before.
The invisible seed
died and dissolved,
unimplanted.
It's all still there,
scattered, dissolute,
lonely.

I would give anything
to be fooled again
by that most true
illusion.

My hands are empty,
my words are empty,
my blood courses without destination,
my cells divide without promise,
my heart only waits for you
to come back with your drunkenness,
your truth.

here's a poem
that isn't about
what it's about.
here's a window in the sky
perfectly transparent,
and deceptive.
here's a face
that isn't a face,
a person
that isn't a person,
pain that isn't pain,
emotions
that aren't emotions,
feelings about something
that isn't what they're about,
physical sensations that
are not physical at all.
here's a jar that is empty,
and dangerously full,
open and inaccessible.
here's a dribble of water in its bottom,
corrosive as acid,
maddening as quicksilver.
here it is.
look around you--
everything's normal,
same as always.

Because this is what's normal,
remember?

Here in the tender grass
comes the eager step
of a fairy's foot.

The fairy's of the earth and air.
She can fly high
and she knows what's deep down.
But her favorite places
are the many paths--some known,
some unknown--on the earth's face
criss crossing with endless adventure.

Stand in the glade and wait
for the eager step
of a fairy's foot.

I'm always played out,
now, pulsing in my hard shell,
hungry hopeful thighs,
unstoppable but sometimes very slow
mind.

I've no one to
address these to, come to
the window and see.

Give me a reason
to let it all go, come and
make it make sense
and I swear I

have wings as wide as the world
to show you,
colorful,
penetrable,
hungry,
we will

rewrite the world

us two

kindness is the sky vault.
up high, stormless, all-seeing,
powerful, empty.
kindness is hidden here.
storms pass through it,
sun passes through it.
kindness is not of the storm.
it is still, and vast.