Some Container of Life

May 23rd, 2014 § 0 comments § permalink


I’ve noticed the
Objects have shifted since
You’ve come and gone
Unlocked themselves and
Left home

For instance,
The underbed storage
Was empty
Then it was full
Now it is empty again

There will be something
To fill it once more

Contained life is
Empty, not empty.

But wait–
Here, corner-pushed, has
The Almost Gone collected:
A lonely aspirin,
A tear of paper,
Smattered blond threads
From a shaved head.

Could we call that empty?
It is empty enough.



May 20th, 2014 § 0 comments § permalink

she was map-folded

and I unfolded her

knife-tracing countried

curves of skin


when she meets me with portraited silence

it’s to say that my scars always leave boundaries


might you instead

kindly perforate?

I’d like to move as if

I were free

If you should so like to.

May 12th, 2014 § 0 comments § permalink

If you should dance

covered by dust,

remember to be old.


If you should sleep

arched back and

wild tongued,

believe that dreams

are visions to come.


Do not surrender

hoping to hide

from the bizarre

and incomprehensible


If you should rise

sunstruck and running,

listen to the height of your thoughts.


Meet it with a pounded chest

on a dampening morning,

gulls crying out to the land,


clearing bridges and tunnels to

greater and greater divides.

I’m new here

April 23rd, 2014 § 0 comments § permalink

To these feet

Slung along porch steps


A quick glance tells me

I could open wider to your gaze

(Perhaps bannister straddled,

Head resting on hands piled

Imagining you between rotting wood

And my softening belly)


The problem here is the looking

It’s for someone who’s already already


I’m no one’s already anymore but mine


I’m much more controversial

When I’m asleep

Much more likely to

Much more

Poetry is

April 23rd, 2014 § 0 comments § permalink

my disease in verse.


April 11th, 2014 § 0 comments § permalink

guessin I’m gunna miss
your eyes first
if I had to choose

or maybe the soft spot
on your heart
wheres you let me
curl up and rest.

no– your hands–
which carried you
to me.

shaped, pressed, curved
your way through time
carved out your place
in dis world.

in me world
you were center
and I grew to you
(but also away)

all growth moves us
toward and away

here we be
closing with soft press
and deep ache.

just as I always
have and always will
i still be ever reachin
toward (and away from)



My family.jpg

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