award
voracious ripping into oblivion push yourself through my skin smooth and white a visage in spite but who benefits from this beating into
nothing
what if we just stopped and waited and i became
real again
why am i looking for approval when i dismiss every painted splintered boy there’s a pearl on the horizon but it always snaps shut never sure enough
oh this is alright
i know how it works supply the jerks take the ride no harm done but it’s never finished always rolling eyes back into exposed spines and embarrassing declarations
why so much fuss to see you naked?
what doesn’t come with a prices hides a promise never kept who can save nothing from nothing else never a bridesmaid it’s only my pride
stop pushing
Death By Water
“…consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.”
— T.S. Eliot
I say I am a mystery
- even to myself -
as I sit here with you.
Running with you is like
swimming in the southernmost
ocean
— miles and miles of deep blue.
And every time I push out,
I am moved
by you.
These darkest depths,
where secrets swirl around
— exotic fish.
I, once again, on the rock…
clinging to me, there may be
sharp edges — warnings to your
fingers, darling,
for I have been
cruelly carved.
And the waves crash
against both of us
enveloping all sympathies,
cradling this Entity,
this
invisible mark.
There is fire;
and before fire,
the spark.
(Obey)
And if you turn away
because there is no lesson here
I will hold my awkward bowl,
with all its cracked stars shining
Not that it was beautiful,
but that I found some order there…
…….although your fear is anyone’s fear,
like an invisible veil between us all…and sometimes in private,
my kitchen, your kitchen,
my face, your face.
— Anne Sexton, from “For John, Who Begs Me Not To Enquire Further”
Coffee —
That bitterness
The acid slick on the tongue
Bedraggled bones and
a refusal to meet
my eye
I am a necessary nuisance —
Like the grit you pick off
Your teeth
As if to say,
“Not enough.”
Here we are
Struggling through dinners abroad,
Sorry cups stuttering as they are
being dragged along,
Your disappointment nipping at my heels
Stuttering couplets
and open books
Fighting spasms as I reach my arm
across state lines
Use your own judgement
Even in this space,
These long, white hallways,
We are trapped (together)
You think that I am imagining
this torment
That I will awaken
and shake you loose —
a selfish disturbance
I will cross the room
as a child,
wearing short, velvet dresses
and high socks
I will grow out of this
embarrassment
Encased and defeated
I am left to my own devices —
A purple placated vein
Twitching in the dark
I am not enough
Trashed
lips —
pillowy like a ship’s
billowy sails
hair —
once black
as soot
you’re everything but calling, dear
and i can’t follow you
on foot
my hands have never been so tied
and it’s not like
you’ve never cried
before
so
we’ll be like
two ships in the night
— except the sea is a hole in the wall
and we’re dancing…
Wilderness
charcoal marks across the hearth
we never spent summers
together.
sprawled out in the green
grass
so much room,
but no
space
to breathe
I push these ashes around,
telling the same
old stories
Retromance
spent fireworks
hair in my mouth
smile on your face
wishes coming true in black and red lace
in another time
O we will know, won’t we?
The stars will explode in the sky
O but they don’t, do they?
Stars have their moment and then they die
-Nick Cave
Maybe
I am dragging on your cigarette
Irreparably attached to your dinette set
An expiration date to be met
in a secret
rush
to the door
Cartoon balloon heart
full of sugar and
spite
Might explode on us
any night
Be careful with that knife…
I see your smoke forming in the recesses
of our shared regrets
Icy blue eyes punctuate
implacable dissidence
Distractions
best exacted in
half-formed interests
— all but keep me
begging at your feet
to be met with
Maybe
We will see…
it all goes back to the belt
beat me
give me meaning
leave me bleeding
mouth agape
eyes mirroring
pouring wounds
screaming rape
and wishing for more…
Ms. Pitiful
11 O’clock
I played
Otis Redding
for you
on the jukebox
No reply
Message received
fetish
hardening flesh
rub against the soft
rush of fabric
suited up
boots polished
ready for your orders,
mein herr