spring |
Reaches out his hands like a distant JesusIm still waiting to come up forair. Blind and drowned the brightest and only way is up but the movingthe pushing uptakes it all from the neck, the should...
Posted by on Sun, 29 Mar 2009 21:39:00 GMT |
some favorites |
Augustine in nature: soul all black eye makeup and holier than thou--than me--sheshoved at the calm heavy loves and flirtations so fast that the light from behind was blinding: remember the straight b...
Posted by on Sat, 07 Mar 2009 14:34:00 GMT |
tiles |
The pictures you like--find me folding your collar, fingers warm on your neck--find the pictures you like slice them small, checks and squares scattered bright tiny bright red and dark make the Trees ...
Posted by on Sat, 07 Mar 2009 13:08:00 GMT |
likes to argue |
Tongue unfurls and spits its tiny starslucky bits of love and wisdom all over me. Because Imlonely and excited I latch on and argue, discuss, shave off little bits of opinion to accommodate his, an...
Posted by on Mon, 02 Mar 2009 15:00:00 GMT |
three of five |
It's 4:00 and I'm reaching for my twelfth bottle. Twelve bottles. I'm a machine or an animal. Earlier the brain could not flee fast enough from the sadness of three or so so...
Posted by on Mon, 15 Sep 2008 07:59:00 GMT |
speculations on a girl |
When I think of her I think of a
glass vase, the tilted neck from which two or three black flowers, heavy-headed like
fat tulips, rise and droop into their own lean necks, chins tucked in and e...
Posted by on Sat, 02 Feb 2008 18:59:00 GMT |
early 10/28 |
I imagined Lay Lady Lay as softer
a dark warm Jim Croce, but see Bob Dylan's image there and the gold brass
bed pales, fades, somehow, into pop obscurity; Croce always made me think
of you but you wo...
Posted by on Sat, 27 Oct 2007 22:06:00 GMT |
Monday |
The glass of the photo frame like a mirror shows me lifting the mug, background of branches anda blue cut of river and a prideful me jokes as I standsomeday, I'll be better, and write and dispel this ...
Posted by on Mon, 22 Oct 2007 20:05:00 GMT |
injured kitten |
10-15 (Robert's birthday)
Even when I think I'm sad for others, I'm sad for me; even with my
fingertips on the dark orange down of a kitten I am sad for my own fingers and how
tiny they were when the...
Posted by on Sun, 14 Oct 2007 22:05:00 GMT |
the teacher |
He built me first from interest and from eyes framed by
years of experience he met mine and my mind my body and
proclaimed me good. Claimed for his own. Formed around me the
lessons to b...
Posted by on Thu, 20 Sep 2007 18:33:00 GMT |
