Dig at the scab
Watch the blood
Readied in its chamber
Beauty soft and sharp
We show our fangs
Weak-kneed by blood lust
You tear into me
A hunger lost
In the dizzying pollen
The oils of your skin
A sweet honey
You cave to the taste
While I become alone again
Drowning in the effervescent musk
Twilight lost in the bleeding dusk
I've lost the metaphor,
A painful rhythm
Choking on realties
While the water weeds
She calls in the empty night
An owl can only know so much.
Her wings glide,
Now the world guides her back,
Over the garden wall.
See You in Seattle
Opportunity is gentle in her lust.
These particles run amok and
I miss you so much.
How silly to think this was it.
A perfect fit.
A vessel of anxiety,
A boat on the high sea,
A tidal wave forgotten in this misery.
Our flame it burns so brightly
A scream rendered silent ever nightly
Running into ghosts of you
Forever stuck in September.
I’ve felt skin hot as steering wheels
Bursting through a sickening cityscape
I see you leaving—don’t forget your tears
There is dust on the dust of your slight renown.
I want you to know that I’m trying to hate you.
To put every little thing you’ve done into a box and throw it into the river that made you realize you still loved me.
Let it sink to the bottom along with your near-death and dissolve into spent memories settling into the sediment.
Sway and move with the current.
William and Margaret,
A watery marriage bed,
Left to drown under the force of a Mother’s love.
But I pulled you and I called you here,
And now instead of saying goodnight, I’ve finally found the breath to say goodbye.
Talking to Myself
By the end of Sisyphus Part 4 I didn’t know who I was anymore
Ageless and nameless I melt in the rain
You’re doubting me, timing me,
Daring me to get up again
And is it any wonder when I do?
Do these failings still come as a surprise to you?
In a minute I’m busy.
Some thoughts they surround me
I’m barreling through the rain:
Waiting to be caught.
Wilting under and then growing into the pain
I’m finding you;
I’ll be home soon.
Look for me sighing,
Somewhere under the moon
Never know who I’m going to lose
Waste of space
Time and place
Dusty orange sunsets accent outer space
Matter of time
Lose my rhyme
And I can’t find the reason, anymore.
Paint by Number
She drinks Coffee Mate
While I passively expire
She’ll soon be dead
Why don’t you come and join me by the fire
She’ll dress in fleece
I think I’ll go lie down awhile
Her dress is tatters
I guess we’ll all go out in style
I am Sam.
“Where were you last night?” The tears rolling down her face felt like acid burning through his skin.
“Deborah, I know you don’t believe me, but I swear I’m telling the truth.” He watched her put her head in her hands, “I wouldn’t lie to you! Come on, would I make this up?” Sam took a deep breath, reaching out for her hands. Her eyes sparkled with tears as she looked up at him. “Please. I need you to trust me.”
Deborah stared into her husband’s face a heartbeat more. She sighed, resigning to the fact that she could no longer argue. “Okay. I guess I don’t have any other choice.” She wiped the tears from her eyes, “what do we do now?”
Sam took her hand, forever by her side. His eyes glittered, gazing out at the world before them. Out to where he knew they’d find all the answers. “We get those green eggs and ham.”
An extremely silly warm up I wrote a long time ago that still makes me laugh.
I’m visiting the ghost of you.
I was hoping we could talk it through,
But I’m the one living in these old haunts of ours
And so I guess the real ghost would be me,