Monthly Archives: September 2009
Day 197
I need you tonight, moon, am collapsing in the curve of you. I found a wrench in the street this morning. I need you tonight, throwing tools (I am afraid to use) before me, am reaching to cradle my own … Continue reading
Filed under Day Poems, Night Poems
If You Please
Regrets only raise the lower tree line equally. Bottom leaves hidden from sunlight, they die at the same rate. If I succeed in not showing up for another family pageant to appear before you a doom eager stranger mouthing simple … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
Prayer (Day 324)
When I look at the moon, I believe in God in phases. Because he who rapes the body no longer rapes thought, I said, “no.” When I look at the moon, I believe in God in pauses revealed in shadow … Continue reading
Filed under Day Poems
Art of Seduction
Are you Flaubert’s least untrue, she won’t dare ask for fear your reply might smack her cheek, lick her lip, keep her reaching for more paint and wall.
Filed under Afternoon Poems
Day 1,487
I am the scriptio inferior, I am the underwriting of myself. I cannot wash away the dialogues I have had with amnesia, cannot forget my desire to be seen. With each alcoholic palimpsest, I became powder, irretrievable, invisible to myself. … Continue reading
Filed under Day Poems
Preparing for the Change
September rain not really falling, but has fallen. Clouds mess with her chance to witness another civil twilight. But a western gleam signals another shift. And she wishes she could find the hidden white pine forest, tucked into it creek, … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
Muse in Relief
I carve you alive with my own chiseled lips. I make you because I was made by another nervous dreamer. Your brows are what rise when I’m done with your face. You smile— with your flat stone eyes and male … Continue reading
Filed under Afternoon Poems
You and Your Confluence
Water meets water, she turns to witness your exchange. A stick snag mud morning before the sun breaches all birth of unwoven sound. She turns again to wait the long steel blue wait. It’s got to be a full moon … Continue reading
Filed under Morning Poems
Roadhouse Revisited (Day 365)
She will answer her own question with another question wrapped inside a brilliantly clean pattern of reds, blacks, gold— a pattern bleeding into another, into another without end. “Will I make it to the roadhouse without dying tonight?” Spotting an … Continue reading
Filed under Day Poems
Siren
She wonders what song the Sirens sang when they lured men to their beds for tortured pleasure and the prospect of oysters on half shells floating in the sky at night. She wonders if she could hum the tune herself … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
