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poetry

gardens

words can’t make a notion true or less opaque if-- of any worthwhile depth most thoughts of consequence are best understood in the unrehearsed honesty of abstraction best heard in the echo-hollow lingering between us most souls are best known in the dark soil of our silent gardens ...
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poetry

lavender flowers

the bible would have been more interesting had we been told whom, it was-- that jesus was fucking tho the fables’ lessons would fail us falling (further) into question if one, above others, were chosen tho it’s also true enough that love, chooses us for its desert cross I wrote ...
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poetry

daydream

you come to me, love at these quiet times kaleidoscope colors leaves falling into the wet darkness then laying still evening’s solitude reminds aren’t we beautiful walking, together? the cafe-sidewalk memories spinning anyone watching can plainly see our love’s perfection and then an intruder arrives with his hand on your ...
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poetry

promise

To see only his eyes, black and narrow, without any shine, any reflection, from outside, nor within, you wouldn’t know if he were alive, or waxen. We were high on mescaline, and I watched Leo change from nothing, to something, a dark King, and then back to nothing, but colored ...
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poetry

misconstrued

the whole of the trouble the entirety-- of the conundrum is that all has been written poetry, scrawled with a crow’s quill dipped, scooped, and swirled in black-blood bent-dagger wounds each poem, an eleven-rose bouquet gifted-- the whole of the trouble the entirety-- of our pounding-drum conundrum is that all ...
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humor

shithead

This time last year, I had no costume to wear to the party. I found a spare toilet seat I had laying around in the garage, wondering for a moment why I would have such an item kept as a spare, but just for a moment, and then unwrapped its ...
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poetry

three words

What a burden for three words to carry-- on their starved, rib-shown backs rust-iron stones, chipped, dented, and squared rock-slide rubble remnants tucked, and jammed into every frayed and bursting blue-denim pocket the buts, the pointed condition(s) the held memories, the indignation(s) What a burden for three words to carry-- ...
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poetry

gilded-glimmer exile

“It was before the train accident, when my husband died..” She went on to tell a different story, one that had nothing to do with her husband. I half-listened, watching to see the silouhette memories of him walking beside her, reflecting in shining, mosquito-pond pupils, neither deep nor shallow, but ...
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poetry

Late December

“I’ll be back in town in late December. I’ve got to stop by to see you. You’ve been so much help.” Her voice over the phone carried her decades, each a splintered-wood ship tossing on blue-waves’ ebbing persistence. Hoarse and smoky, she insisted. She told me her daughter worked at ...
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poetry

Cold October

cold October the turn of the earth its gentle bend its kaleidoscope-spin obscurity its hoary-edge shadows whisper a name I’ve not heard since a prior existence I might walk-- until I find it caress its hip-curve edge stepping over the familiar bones of the lonesome wicked I might dare a ...
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