6/09/2010

Immunity

Taking in: water, meat,
darkness, light.

Falling down: body, rain,
heart.

Immunity: no one.

I too saw the white hand
lifting to its open mouth
a piece of brightness;

tasting it.

6/05/2010

Chasing Down

We won't stay young and wait
for love; who has time to linger
for a crippled dog, the passing snail?

While everyone is dreaming there
are quick wolves chasing down
the slow deer, the unsuspecting bull.

Noiseless night, a pillow for the head,
has schedules to keep, cages to leave
as shadows shorten toward the woods.

6/04/2010

The Absentee Father

Blindness from smoke,
mist and fog, rather than light
the heart moved forward
into the wall. Where else
could a daughter go
to find her father?

Giving Up the Ghost

I promised fidelity, briefly
wearing nothing at all. In my garden,
there are thorns that prick the soul.

How true are flowers? False
as rivers straighten then coil;
nature being the perfect whore. Lovely
for a season, then, winter-dead.

You've known of treachery before:
your earnest prayers unanswered
or the body fails before it wants to.

Libations

The drinking glass is cold; sometimes
life is like that. Wine, cranberry liquid,
rich as blood. Often, we lose them both.

Bread and butter for the soul. Toasted.

A tiny bit of spinach caught between
the teeth, unattractive. Death should be
so lovely. Where's the meat? Still roasting
on the grill.

6/03/2010

What Wolves Swallow

The way is taken. I am becoming
the broken bone regurgitated;

each sharp piece cuts the throat,
the septic belly bloating. This is

the way of interruption, the path
that turns the most; careful what

you eat, where you choose to go.
By which I mean, specifically

the skeleton without its coat.

6/01/2010

The Killing Season is Over

As if instinctive, retreats
in blue, submerged,
the unlucky. Soon lifeless.

Then, red night; the inside
of a devil's veil. Cold arrests
resistance. Accepts an end

to violence, a shift,
dismounting of the rider
from the wreckage.