ruth less
she is trapped an arid word she’d never thought to use herself on behalf of herself not in this timeline a word she’d used often in the pasts of passing how is she captured again she wonders how has she deemed herself the hunter while assuming a position of prey well she must have feltbeenseen […]
suchthing
there’s no such thing as a perfectplace. no hardwood floor without that one exposed nail head no bookshelf full of novels that evoke only layered laughter no pantry stocked with just peanut butter pistachios and chili chocolate yet i wait for that place socks on hammer in hand a few unlikely library books on hold […]
haiku i
too hot to make love so until sushi arrives we make fuck instead
no title
silence but for my poppa’s clock now set to spring climbing up climbing out of myself burrowing into an unidentifiable comfort present most times of the day though imperceivable during the dour hours of dreams such concentration exhaling any hesitation to trust myself come the stroke of light birds
you open the door
existence becomes a soft lens a distant campfire a weak cup of tea no less real when we are chest to spine always simple always being always needing more words for correct right mint flawless fitting true perfect an endless launch into shared egotism
.07 imagining
your grip about my rib cage guiding lifting propelling in forward motion the grace of pas de deux the ferocity of a mosh pit we are vivid in motion
this is
the kind of day my jaw bone gnashes on an invisible feast craving to create craving to feast on the creation but with instrument missing from his stand and sight taking the vacation i was meant to have i am stripped though a happy heart acts as an industrial grade furnace this chill ripples beneath […]
search and ..
she had forgotten why she’d even driven west this morning so she turned herself about and headed east she had forgotten why she parked the car at this dead end so she fled the scene in an alarming ascent leaving half of herself at the avocado farm part way up the ridge while the other […]
dad, know
my memories of you echo with the scents of mulch and bamboo of breyers seasonal blackberry ice cream the streams of car wash suds down the driveway your stale sweat of late night business travel to places I’d see myself later in life in the arms of other men less deserving of my love of […]
from the douchebag bar
his bare grip strong encompasses my gloved fingers his own recent history the constellations of our midnight promenade sleet storms although tepid freeze my toes beer bellies although full crave something homemade at home in home our home we glide east sharply south always a direct route home because us over puddles turned ocean “we […]