Idol eyes on me,
determined as spears. My
ripe lashes stray to your
Elysian leather jacket,
alight on your midnight head.
Milklight drips off my skin,
edging into shadow,
dappling your feet with all our
opal-flavored energy. So
full, in your solar gaze.
Yield, says me, and I
Under the whole of my soul, a concrete fleet
invades my gravity, doubling the beat.
Naked yellow walls are
soaking up a desert heat, making me
thirsty, unable to speak.
Ever caught on this wheel, turning fate into fate;
absorb me, I’m real.
Don’t go away. Wait.



Don’t even try to feel your way out of my mirrored mind;
its labyrinths are carved according to a mad design.
An ache proceeds from my dark heart and will not let you rest;
you squint, but nothing but the nothing peers into your face.

Then brimming from a distant wing comes light, appalling light;
a red-fringed fire assault upon your vast, dilated eyes.
And stunning through your blindness, whispers violate your thoughts;
evolved from grinding vibrations that scrape against your boots.

Sorrow appears to be the only gift the gods bestowed;
gave us a knowing tree to worship, taught us how to read.
Come, use your fear and anguish since they’re all you’ll ever have;
the depths of frozen loss demand you weep, command you grieve.

Erase the urge to use your feet, they’re buried in the floor;
your hands are busy in amidst some spines of crystal fur.
We glimpse each other fatally, I’m yours and you are mine;
forgive the whirring bats that cry, “It’s not real! You’re alone.”

twenty fifteen

Hurry down the stairway from the third floor with us,
don’t bother getting dressed,
black silk on me and red cotton on you,
dark tights on your lover,
we three.
Greet the chipping paint of the once-white handrail stains,
your fingers stinging bright;
devote yourself to each step’s muted clang,
bare feet making love to
As our laughter flows in deep blood river rhythms,
what looks like full darkness
becomes a hallway with beams of clean light
streaming from an oval
“Walk through the door!”
“Hold on, stop pushing!”
“Where are we?”
“Open your eyes and see!
100 yards from where we were before.”
“What? No, how can this be?”
“Not sure.”
We had been in the front room, removing all of
our clothing piece by piece;
the party outside going along fine,
with primary colors,
and steak.
Some kids ran, laughing, from the apartment next-door,
we heard them through the walls.
They must have caught the corner of our eye –
farther than they should be,
too soon.
We watched them blinking in the sun across a plot
of singing grass and dust;
from the strong hill where our building sat stunned,
we saw them with their mouths
We found us worshipping the boy with glinting hair,
and the girl whose tethered curls
seemed to float right before her through the air.
The rest of them gazing,
just up.
Us three unwound from being intertwined to run,
making our way down to
the place a tiny door was neighboring
the bleak stairs, and it was
like the rest of that forlorn hall. We remembered,
it used to be nailed shut,
but it beckoned us with an open face.
We whispered to ourselves,
“Go in!”
Now we see the sunlit children, silhouetted,
like birch trees on a lawn,
like faultless prey forgotten, left afraid.
Our party sits up high,
far off,
their voices and colors carried by the cold wind;
as if they are all true.
Still, you can see we’ve traveled right on through
to some elusive place,
brand new.


I sing, whole,

and break out from the forest of my soul,

I walk, loud,

to frighten back the lions in the crowd,

I fly, sweet,

and chop the air with my unsubtle wings,

Are you awake?

To tow the line and walk upon the lake!

Have we never met before?

I’m sure I’ve seen your face.

In treasuries and candy stores;

in dismembered disgrace.

Let us run and find your heart,

to keep it focused on the dawn,

until the day you turn around,

and find that I am gone.

You’ll sing on!

You’ll see that this was meant to be our song.

You’ll walk free!

And slake the lusts you find between your teeth.

You’ll keep flying!

Though my body lies in dust beneath the swings,

I will come to you and sing,

I will come to you

without ever dying.

Are you asleep?

Cradled still within the earth, we nestle deep.

stone sin

I ache for your words,
for the way they sank into my soul,
like barbed wire, beach sand, and rock and roll;
kissed me soundly until my breath was gone
told me gently that the world was –
wrong and we were –
Don’t let the floral arrangements keep you
from crashing through my window anymore –
shatter glass onto my floor,
and leave the orchids weeping in despair,
without a care.


Don’t say that I

haven’t been there for you



Eat up the sky

and pretend that you wait



Don’t say that we

just weren’t meant to be



I have never seen you

I have never seen you more sad than today


Climb the rocks and paint the trees

Any color you please

Take my hand and don’t let go

here is the body I own


Don’t take the chance that

today is our last,

my love


Determine to waste

every second you have

on my touch


Don’t say that we

will not live happily

just this once


I will never leave you

I will never leave  you more sad  than today


Climb the rocks and paint the trees

Any color you please

Take my hand and don’t let go

here is the body you own

I own.

the letter

I sit in the still of my house, low and somber,

all wishing for witching and time machine lumber,

my promises baking like pies in the fire,

a crayon-soaked clamp round my neck like a wire.


A small steady whisper keeps saying its lines,

“I know you are sorry, but really its fine.”

There Childhood and Innocence leer from the rafters,

and choke on the smoke of their recent disasters,


and reel from the paper weight of written words,

and never stop squeaking like smoldering birds.

I watch as they wriggle in subdued despair,

I watch as they point devilishly at air.


I stumble while seated and stutter while silent,

the cries of the birds rise, soulful and triumphant,

I lay down in decadence, which I ignore,

the beat of their wings echoes down to the floor.


I simper and whine like a dog put outside,

the Haunts grow much longer, and stronger, and wide,

I see or hear naught but their song like a flutter,

I bury myself in the bedding like butter.


The cushions are soft here, the food never ends,

I’ve time for my mind to sigh, wrecked on a bend;

these Ghouls which you send me are holy and just,

the way you work through my pain which,

dear, you must.

cross and staff

A grave nightmare patchworks my teardrops;
scents of atomic lullabies,
and seventh tries,
those righteous lies
which say I will breathe ’til my heart stops.

I dance in laurels and nudity,
at their brutal, unworldly birth,
sedate with mirth,
a solemn earth,
hovers above and below me.

I touch down on an unholy moon,
amid a vast cornfield to cook,
with the wrong book,
cast a pale look:
the sky is nothing but a spoon

I walk a stuttering, woodland path,
all poached in the emptiest ache,
a bitter quake,
let the trees take
out on me their revenge and their wrath.

Here I cling to the nightmare like wind,
slipping it through salty fingers;
how it lingers,
’til the singers
exalt all that ought to offend.

I starve under bright, stained-glass windows,
my feet on a Seraphim’s nose,
a sultry pose,
a headless rose,
bells ring, but the door remains closed.

Alight with me onto a tower,
follow my corset down the stairs,
war with me there,
frolic ensnared,
in awe of resurrection power.

Then we will swim fast through the river,
all spraying giggles in a splash,
a soaking dash,
a weightless thrash,
playmates like unforeseen shivers.

Crab queenly reclines there, astride
the scales of brave Fish, those clear eyes,
they wave goodbyes,
in cold surprise;
my heart pled for mercy, but died.


Pay me in sand dollars

and candy cigarettes

for loving how it feels

to take off my clothes

with grown men in the next room;

or dance in a candlelit window,

embracing my pleasures,

while they hide theirs

out on the street.