Posts for June 3, 2017 (page 2)



Walking barefoot through the yard
I watch my step until I realize
that the hard rains from the past month
washed away any lingering dog shit
left to avoid
There are birds nests full of fur
tucked away in the trees,
two carved boxes rest on the mantle
With nothing but dirt beneath my feet,
my days of picking though the grass are done. 


Colony on Fire

My husband set fire to a path of ants
on the patio

it’s shit like this and his insufficient
fury for the Trump presidency that threatens
what we’ve built over seven years


he’s so damn handsome with his beard and
brown eyes, so kind to me even when I 
chastise him for killing ants with my conviction
that land outside the house is fair
game and belongs to them

I’m always feeling so many feelings,
my own or someone else’s

and even if he can’t agree it’s one
of the main reasons he loves me,
he told me so once when I asked him

you should hear his voice
when he calls me “B,”
it’s the definition of 



I have the kids today.
and the haunted house
with the knife marks in the wall
and the kicked in doors and cabinets
that hole from when you threw the candle
and all the damage that you can’t accept
now I’m actually kind of glad that the green minivan got totaled
that was covered in your spit
when you missed me


Haikubes Game Experiment

a glorious god
killed a melodic brother
grand promises sour


on turning 42 or no cake

Still standing
Pages contain temporary submission to folly
Halfway crook attempts at poems
Living out loud in the quiet of the night whispering that zigfrie wouldn’t make it.  Here.
B boy come B man come B side dissident soaking into the cracks you trip over
I’m the cousin of gravel and cuss words
And the forgotten son of that uncle working the grill 
The self anointed sideshow king am I.  And I
4 dimes in and change. is more than cup holder occupants to me.  
What remains of giving this for that. This.  That. Whatever that was. I wish
when I sleep.  When I sleep. I wish that I was a country
I want to spy on myself
have palace intrigue
Assassinate heads of state have wars
For reasons yet to be determined
The living chemical reaction that leads to this
It won’t be for power.  No.  These conflicts will not be over power.  That’s cliche.  
Like the first world complaining about the 3rd world complaining 
As i ride life on a unicycle looking for peter tosh 
I’d feel left out at my own birthday party. If I ever had one.   


DNA Noose

We carry
too many traits
that threaten

Stupid little
monkey competitive
memory meat sauced
with black oil & blue gas

Our cognitive
overdrive hums

Zoo beautiful


I Meet a Man from Botswana

I Meet a Man from Botswana

He didn’t shake my hand,
he used it as a fulcrum

lifting me into his amber eyes
which bore tunnels through mine

to my naked brain.
His convincing voice –so sincere–

as though nice to meet you
was Truth. I believed him

while his eyes, his voice chimed
throughout the rest of my afternoon

like the Mourning Doves
I’d listen to from a pile

of my grandmother’s comforters:
not gone, but shifted

to that place where feather
memories compress to down,

where, if we’re not careful, we
forget we inhabit ancient seas

and sleep wrapped in ancient flight.


Sedated Moments of Perceived Polarity

Diminished intent
our duration variance
elapsed importance
Tandem occurrence
a visible detachment
apathy endures
Sedated moments
of perceived polarity
isolate instincts

Watercolor painting, photographed & edited slightly



(after D.H. Lawrence)

Steadily the day is falling through the mottled leaves,
casting shadows within shadows, layers of shade and light
merging green and exquisite; and I beyond numb
feel in the air around me a sweetness I did not expect
I needed, but here it is and its touch soothes my skin;
I welcome it through the grief, choosing still to breathe.


Off Duty

The officer steps
from his cruiser
flute case at his side