Category Archives: poetry

// Remember Me //

Has this been the hurt inside of you
these cuts on my hands
the crush of broken promises.
Your static mouth a shrieking fog

buzzing in my head, humming –
you like grains of sand
scratching a desert
in my throat.

Remember me a grapefruit moon

hanging in your rear view mirror
love in the back seat
melon. sunset. smoke.
love

took a back seat.

Now the morning rolls down her sheets
silicone heat waves sweat across my tongue.
I listen for you but all that moves nails along the wall
are reflections of an empty afternoon.

(my arms reach
for three corners from this corner)

The windows are swallowing sunlight
the sunlight is dangling through trees
traces of a dim lit landscape
you used to speak of

in dreams.

.

.

// Liar //

I know you are not listening.
I know there is a voice which speaks to you
and you hold its neck beneath the
waterline;

choke the truth
that’s choking you.
You are silent, thrumming in stoic madness
to keep it hush.

It is silent
but the truth is a disease with no breath
carried along on the scarred back of eternal breeding.
It has no heart for beating

or not beating,
shadowboxing with the pulse of
a faceless time of day,
swing and a miss

and miss, miss, miss.

What you fight is what is biting
you, the Mistress and her missing fingers and
her broken window teeth.
She is there despite you

in you because of what you are
and the howl in your stomach is filling
itself as you swallow its tongue
cursed hunger without permission

filling itself with rage.

.

.

// Darkness Falls //

I didn’t want it to be like this
you hanging by your teeth from my breast
and my not wanting to kiss you.
How the being of neglect walks alone through the hills
black cloaks and woodland creatures falling all around
my feet

the birds have come to nest
the birds have come to die

for lack of air in my lungs.
I could watch you spinning for as long as it takes
to stand the earth still
and freeze the clouds overhead in place,

write to me of the darkness you see. I want
to read the words you choose.

I bathe in cool darkness,
shower and dress and tug at my
neck
in darkness

line my lips and my eyes and stain my cheeks
with the smut and the ink

of the darkness in which
we dare not between us
speak.

.

.

// untitled //

are you okay
it seems like the corners of your eyes
have fallen
it seems like the way you hold onto my hand is
flowers dying on the cherry wooden table
next to a beautiful vase
by the window left
like curtains alone with the breeze.

up against the wall i thought i heard the sounds of time
footsteps coming down the hall
are you okay
when i’m in here they don’t tell me anything

the carpets are greensea and the dust
chokes the daylight.
i’m turning in my sleep
footsteps leaving down the back stairs.
screen your calls, you have no more to say but
i am waiting and the calls cannot get through
i’ve disconnected all the lines
not knowing is not better
(are you okay?)

but i’m afraid there will be no answer
so i keep the questions folded in small creases
inside my paperfoil heart.
i’m okay i’m okay i’m okay.

.

.

// Beg //

You unlock your mouth in dreams
undone by my adoration,
my heart continues
to divide.

What may I offer you to feast upon?
This body is sacred, this body is sick.

I drip as you beg
at the plastic edges of my sweet disturbance,

cry for the softmilk of my blood.

The pallid grasp of chemical hands
drowning the streets in her venomous drink,
sing for the weakness of thy flesh,
how charming the scent of dark, ripe seed.

In the place where love has never lived,
the mourning of love grows here:
spread wide and sodden atop the fading gravestone hills,
a cold nightwind gives birth

to a dying winter sky

our pleasured anguish writhing
beautifully beneath her.

.

.

// I Looked Up //

I looked up and I saw
you coming.
I saw the way you
have entered my life in footprints

I had mistaken for music.
The sky began spinning
golden spheres of watercolour globes
melting teardrops upon thick stems.

Life will be water. Life will bleed.

These were the endlessness of
fields wet with gray which unfolds forever.
I saw you raining up from the ocean
from clouds full of darkness.

I pulled your broken bones
from my throat
and we went again hungry.
They were affixing my lashes with feathers:

my eyes became heavy
my eyes became soft.

I saw you coming
and I saw you leave.

I wait for you
counting hymns in silence.
I watch the way sunlight
burns through the trees.

.

.

For Andy