i pull you out of myself through the top of my head
like a tissue box.
but i pluck too tenaciously
or maybe was gripping your ankles from the inside
because i seemed to have also vacated my cattle-meat body
leaving just a skull with little teeth
that are beginning to go crooked
behind
softly on her belly
he painted waves then
circles by touch
her aura was magnetic,
mesmeric. He breathed softly
on the offer of tensed neck
the slightest thought
down there,
precognition, imparted by
her mother
The will of his hand
wandered south.
She gentled it back to her roundness and
patted it now there with named fingers.
If she would face him
his blood willed it
and wishing
It didn’t happen.
Maybe tomorrow
wasn’t said.
flummoxed
He would act asleep now
Not knowing
her heartbeat had
quickened.
her pupils wide
and smile
secret
softly on her belly
he painted waves then
circles by touch
her aura was magnetic,
mesmeric. He breathed softly
on the offer of tensed neck
Her place at the table
was the chair against the wall.
His was across.
So when he began to tantrum
The table often shoved
Against her thin body.
The mom and the sister
Were on each side
So no way out
While the shouting
And throwing of things
Went on
Later in life she would often
Have to leave the table in
A restaurant because she couldn’t
Draw a breath.
I take responsibility.
I’ve
chopped away
my humanity,
replaced it with metal
and forgot to watch for storms.
Come near my
steam powered
heart, and hear
my rattle-echo
but let’s not bother
with making friends or a
song about what I’d do
if I only filled that cavity.
Don’t tell:
I don’t
believe
in technicolor.
Don’t remind me
of hopeful
melodies.
Don’t recruit me
for the journey towards the
single miracle
meant to set it right.
Roosters don’t only strut and crow
sometimes they sound like brakes scraping.
Does the cock-a-doodle-doo
of a gaily lit house at Christmas
attest to the happiest of families
bright with thriving children
warm with board games carols
fearless into future with 4-wheel drive?
Or are there really cobwebs cowering in dim corners
windows wavering in storm’s furious dance
brakes scraping in case
of wrinkles in the road ahead?
superficial scratches relieve pressure
placed by shorted out synapses—
it’s a punishment. electrical grounding
used to bring back reality in
a warm shower that no longer offers
calm solace, but a stinging reminder
that the water spilled over
and the stressed out puddles left behind
are a looming mess waiting to evaporate.
a comforting hand, rough fingers on my thigh
the sign of patience and love
replaced by a reminder of distrust
and false thoughts pulsating
like unpredictable hurricane waves.
maybe this is why i like when you tie me up—
bind my arms and bruise me softly.
yes, yes. this will save me from the sins
committed against me two years and 477 miles ago
Looking at the sea, skin alive, senses calm,
Worry left on shore, there rises a question.
What about this breeze tickling my nose?
No one ever slaps an insult on a breeze.
You never hear the savage, the whipping,
The tearing, the angry, the deadly breeze.
Song extols the gentle, caressing, lilting,
Whispering, tracing, maybe bracing breeze.
This phenomenon, nature’s enchanted gift.
Wafting across the greenest span,
Soothing the sunburned skin,
The softest breeze blesses, addresses
All the sins of a crowded day.
Hooray, I say, let’s sing and say
Welcome to this gifted air wrapped
In restraint and good manners.
She hands us peace and promises of
A sweet afternoon drowsy with sleep.
Let praises crown her, nature’s princess.
