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Dear, First, your eyes. The shape of the earth bathing happily in itself; stolen sunlight caught on a hot, giving solstice’s day just before the golden auburn tumbles behind the hills; years pocketed away into a little secret like a schoolboy crush; the wet world after raw rain when the waters learn how to kiss … Continue reading
Dear the Hiring Committee of Poets & Writers, My application began twelve years ago. I was twelve and he was thirty three and we were in love. I apologize for beginning with the smatterings of pedophilia and without introducing myself in the usual professionalism and pleasantries fitting for someone who is pleasant and fit and … Continue reading
are we only we in the broken things must we continue to bleed on those who never wounded us who do you talk to now that you are alone like a scab does the moon behind your chest still hold a reflection in the knife can butter still bend the metal where are you … Continue reading
where are the herds the wild wolves that would massacre this hopeful innocence still hopping into each day the maddening light that cannot reach the deep breath of the forest everything has been cut down and domesticated even the spring has a plan nowadays for what will grow when it will be you … Continue reading
to breathe beyond these shadows i must look elsewhere than where your absence leaks into the late afternoon dark underneath the door light curling behind the curtains like a cat we had together before it died to destroy the love left in my bones i must wade beyond the treeline against the hefty hues … Continue reading
Dear dear, Few things are as holy as holding the hollow lumen of a heart. Here, the beat does not bow. The only master is the winter of metal, the machine that stops the pounding of the meaty tires on that long, lively road. When I first shadowed cardiac surgery, I saw this sacredness splayed … Continue reading
still standing here where you left don’t you know how to find me i am a soft pullover of yours i am the slippery sunlight in between the toes there is a deep love under my armpit a bit of warmness glowing still where you spent an evening kissing the usually empty space … Continue reading
Dear dear, I began writing this last year. Many of the words were complicated then. They were ruined in my mouth. Blood dyed their ends. But all of this has been to write a few sentences, simply, assuredly, without the need to compile anymore at least for a day. Today, for example. So, after 365 … Continue reading
here handled dead for yet another exhibit of that hand that will reach to feel the cold but will not disrupt the butterflies wing, will not capture the monarch for fear that the flight will be ruined by hands that will soon swat a fly, splat a hornet, take a bribe, scratch a car, finger … Continue reading
food undigested on the chest breasts already pancakes they will laugh when reaching under the napkin of my body they the strong they the knowledgeable will the question caught on my throat survive the morning before they leave there is another joke that reaches the awake ears bending like flowers to the sun curtains closed … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 