Posts
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Liturgy of Cut Forsythia
We dissect our tangerine-skin to it’s etymological etching,
peeling until we are beautiful and expansive,
like a flowering tree that doesn’t know how to keep itself warm, -
Clerics
To be the perfect woman for a poet,
a cold-brick romantic in a flapper dress!
I've started eating butter without bread. -
Today is not yet History
On Christmas Eve we stayed up late talking about Eastern European politics because the Berlin wall fell thirty years ago. -
Dissidence
The harmonics of amassed dissidence thrum, caught on the lips of a pragmatic dreamer.
It is enough to shatter the moon. -
Exile and the Kingdom, Integrated
I maximize my passion, embracing each rain cloud as if it is a many faceted symphony, as if the moment of release reveals all.
Janice cheated on her husband. She gave her body to the night sky. -
My grey
Where I live, both the sea and sky are grey. The clouds collect in our cups. Mirrored in dichotomy, monotony dances, revealing the subtle irony of divine humor. We drink tea.
Loves
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Vulnerable love
Crescent moon eyes with cheeks bunched up below
A smile and laugh that creates warm swells
The small moments of interest you show
You ask what I am doing, so I tell.
You tease, I tease back — these moments cherished
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Big City kid
Fifteen years ago I moved
I was two years old
Now I am seventeen
The big city kid
It's hard to believe a town of 44,597
Can be considered a city.
Being a big-city kid
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Love Me Like Fog
love me
like the fog –
like the fog loves december –
for the winter gets blurry
and it's hard to remember
hold me
like the fog –
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Meese is the Plural of Moose
Her eyes were not fixed on god but rather on the large taxidermied moose head fixed above the choir on the wall across from where she sat. It may as well have been him.
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The Gift
I learned that butchering purity is ungodly,
yet on the silver platter, I see a snow lamb as fired slabs. -
