Posts for June 1, 2026 (page 19)

forty-eight hours of bed-rotting,
gaseous ideas building up in my temples,
my kingdom for a trepination to relieve to pressure.
mood? cumbersome like some albatross,
sinewy and wet upon my back.
i want a revelation, a donk on my crown
to dislodge all the things unwelcome in my home,
my head, my eyrie, crags filled with the garbarge 
that would make a hoarder blush.
i wait, and nothing comes to save me.
but the incessant sound of my own breath,
perhaps my ego could use it to obfuscate itself
and give me a break. these are my thoughts
mollusk parasites on my bark,
beaten endlessly against the sea

my pen falls
onto the rug

and I bend
to pick it up
hold it

grasp it
thumb extended while

bird typing
into notes
a poem
maybe

because
I mean

Translating Trinity
(Matthew 18:20 – where there are two of you gathered,
I am with you)

three to make the stool stand against gravity
that ever pulls us back to the Earth
and the dust, holds the water in us,
keeps the dust from the wind,
feeds the flame
that keeps the dust from the grave.
There are always three.
There are always three.
One to form,
one to fill,
one to burn
in the fire that does not consume.
There are always three
who whisper in our ear
in a language forgotten,
and we are forgiven
that we don’t remember
how to count,
how to listen,
how to burn.

Conceived and born of Grace, my mother,

my brother and I took it all

scraped her vagina, soul, and heart clean

left none for the next five 

as they struggled on their life journey.

It’s why too many kids are a problem

when money is hard and

cleaning and cooking relentless

and Grace, try as she could,

grew more and more silent.

Her life lessons were short.

When it came to sex all she said was

    sex is very powerful,

It will take your heat and run with it

hot and thrusting till your breath is heavy

leaving only basking in this state of grace

now thrust upon you.

I’m hiding my true self for some day

after the long winter of my life subsides.

I’m wearing this uncomfortable mask until spring

when I get to take it off

and inhale that deep, glorious breath of fresh air

I keep dreaming about.

I try to nurture my inner girl,

to sustain her and keep her alive,

feeding her a steady diet of Taylor Swift,

romantic comedies,

and dreams.

I’m saving  the good china for a party

I may never get to throw.

                                     for Leah

I pray for lungs that live
like great and green lands
grass embracing fields
and hills like lovers   &
winds rushing in from
the sea   the latest news
from foreign places riding
their untamed currents   &
people like rich blood
traveling the windy lanes
to farms villages towns
never stopping at the pub
or to gab with friends
over ancient stone walls
along the way   rushing
always rushing through this
“bounteous world” as Smock
would call it & rendering all
tubes running through you
moot    moot    moot  

Who can withstand the beauty of this day—
(the summer snow that speaks a word
and vanishes in night’s envelope
into whorling distance

with scant warning)—my body
thaws under whirling wisp of sky. 
Now pained and speechless, I learn
our faces melt, wet with rain.

Yet, we bless your feet, 
happy to look in your face 
unashamed and landing on your nose

our soul blows through a busker’s
strings strung bluegrass, lonesome 
high—her voice waving goodbye.