The weapon you have,
symmetrical, is your face
a conversation passport,
a neon sign,
"Do not begin your speech,
go away,  leave me alone"

But the last thing you want,
and quite frankly,
the last thing you need
is to be by yourself,
where your mind can help you
to slice your pulsing wrists
into a hundred pieces,
and suddenly,
you're a bleeding mosaic,
but at least you look
happy and beautiful.

You puke smiles,
and they light up your face,
but if somebody were to stop you,
take you aside and say,
"I know you're not okay" ,
would you beg for a piece of space,
or would you let them stay?

You puke smiles,
so no one sees your petals fall,
no crutches to hold you up,
so by yourself, you make them believe
you can manage standing tall.

Those three words;
hurt me, burn
me, know me.
Desolate delight. I
will burden you
with identity. I
will ache for
my divine shadows
to return. Yet
the clouds parted
and I saw
truth, some strange
recognition within, brought
by my thoughts.
"I know you."

(on February 5th, I am planning to send hard copies of my newest publication earth is part earth and there’s a hole in the sound I made you from to those willing to read it and to those willing to either say something about it or keep quiet.  if you are one of the first five individuals to send me a message with an address of where you’d like to receive it, I’ll include you as one of the individuals on the February 5th  mailing.)  

here are some poems from the book:

-

[from the book of waiting]

what is it
dissolves
in the mother’s
foreseeable
presence?

faith
a flashback
god
is having.

-

[voice]

*** as something that has an end.

evidence of god
provided
to beings
of proof.

I will offer that I had children
because I myself
could not
shun
authority.  post-harm

pick a word
you’ve heard
me say.

-

[trick blood]

the bottle takes what it can from the baby’s mouth. the stirring motion delivered to the hands of a misfit prophet. the knowledge of my father’s people that god is too old of a lover to get satan’s attention. the silence my mother kept quiet for. the second afterlife of a single breast.

-

[male music]

in the creek of tomato silence
where my father saw
what it was
god
could not eat
there lives
a tiny whale
fooled
by emptiness

She did not know what was going on
She was confused about the path she would take
Did she have to make the decision alone?
She has heard that she didn't but where was that other decision-maker
She gave everything she had and expected nothing and gained nothing

She did not know what was going on
Was she really falling in love or just desperate
Had she really been so blind was she finally seeing clearly
Had she really just lowed herself for an illusion

She did not know what was going on
How could she not realize
the is so young, so ignorant to love
She had so much ahead of her
and many more problems

She did not know what was going on
Yet that was no excuse to put on the platter
Yet she had much better things to do
A guy was no match for the worries in her mind
She had a mother brothers fathers* and yet her mind,
was only on him

She did not know what was going on
yet she did
she knew why she cared so much
she knew why she was so attached to something so pathetic
It was not love, or desperation, or even lust
it was fear

She did not know what was going on
She was afraid that she would never really understand love
She was afraid that she would never be loved
she was afraid that she would end up alone
So she fell for the trick of love
She fell for a fantasy

She pretended she had to make a decision all by herself
when she always knew that God was the answer...

Don't ever let a boy trick you into falling in love.
Don't ever let a boy trick you into falling in love.
Don't ever let a boy trick you into falling in love.