Selected Poems 2024

vanquish me
She is a vanquisher
wet red glimmer 
on her hilt
wet enough to put out
fire which sears
after-images on sharp wet eyes
a bloodied lead rapier inside
she is a supple poison
permanent confusion
I analyze the after-images of error
looking for her

Aspen - girl name #5 (final)
Quaking Aspen 
  you are the same as your sisters
    perhaps you are twisted together

You seem to shimmer
  I know better, but
    the wind has no sound without your color

Let her sing
  in your sequined red dress
    she is you

Even if you shake
  let her tear out the leaves
    scrawled with your hopes

Heal them with icicles
  that must be held close
    you itch to cast them before they are ripe 

to shimmer the fragments
  over your root
    to feel her cold bite close

Don't.

Weep under the sun
  you are the same as your sisters
    weep in their caresses

then hold the wind 
  with naked arms
    silently.

Rain — girl name #4
Soon the rain will come and drown precious optimism 
(I love you darling)
Do I owe my life to a break in the clouds?
I do not want a birdsong,
        or imagery, I want despair.
A burning voice and hot tears, alone.
I want to want to die,
        but the clouds don’t care what I want.


Wren - girl name #3

Wren 
A bird with resonance 
A singular person 
Chinese - ren
A Renaissance-
Faire name 
For a bird 
Or a single person 


River - girl name #2


Shiver
Wet pelting
Drops of cold water kill
But not before winter’s melting
River


Sky - girl name #1

The sky is really never
The same thing
For long
But
She goes on
And needn't think
To know herself 
forever 


velvet

breathing under velvet with you
that was a question, I know
trying to find a word
under the velvet
        let me think

First I have a question for you
Why do you want to know?
I know the answer
I want you too
        let me think 

I am not afraid to let you in
under the velvet
        I trust you completely but
the velvet against my skin
isn't a word

I haven't forgotten your question
breathing under velvet with you
        But you must know by now my answer
isn't a word


self denial is a good strategy

So true when written, not when read.
It couldn't be on a line
All Alone
“I want to be a girl.”

I want to want it in my head
My heart's desires - not as real
As metaphors 
about them - and after all

I want to be the color red
And to care about it 
in a way
I don't care about being a girl.

“and why not both” my lover said
and knew I had no answer
no answer
Is good enough for me.

I wish it made me feel empty and led
me to water to make
me drink 
hot piss and tears and spit

I wish it tore me up inside, instead
I feel perfectly fine
Already and
I know to thirst for nothing.


Cinquain #5

warming
touch from heaven
every day worth loving
naked beneath your radiance
content


Cinquain #4

hiding
an inferno
behind a tired door
silent tendrils suffocating me
open


Cinquain #3

Autumn.
Sweet fruit, fallen.
Fuzzy skin soft-bitten,
slithered into and well-eaten,
quivers


Cinquain #2

sore tongue
wanting some more
doesn't know why it's here
can't remember a taste, only her 
abyss


Cinquain #1

nice ass
big juicy butt
round succulent bottom
peach fuzzy warm squishy dump truck
I guess 


crush

Poem poem poem poem poem
Trying to distract from
Having a big crush


Halloween poem

union
        shield of thousands
                who refuse to die

the sauntering
        meek, headstrong, 
                crazed, tragic apathy

in testudo 
        crossing no-man's land
                together 

no retreat
        should the darkness 
                come home

exhausted 
        onward to siege the 
                vampire's castle


pickle

alabaster reciprocating pickle
meaningless drivel 
like pottery 
fragments, human. 
studied profusely by
alienated idiots.

AI educated in euphemisms
for no good reason 
the simulacrum
tricked, thinking. it.
experiences.
human. images.

the chinese room
memorizing composted 
delirium. 
craving organic english.
pattern matching.
                cucumbers.


unity

the space between 
her lips and his:

alien and lifeless.
cold and wet, yet, 
dissectable
nothing to fear.

despite his vivid carmine dreams,
of vampires slain,
of his ashes wet with glowing tears,

his thoughts are chained 
to now and here.

her umber strands quietly cascade 
by dim light
foreign vapors awake her gaze

instead his eyes fix on the haze
between them and
upon the oaken table

ahem.
he looks down at it again.

at that sturdy circle, flat, controlled
he sees the lives he'll never live
doubts the truths he never told

the distance there between them now -
as their pupils dance around -
mysterious transcendental. 

a cycle seen as up and down
by a fragment of a man
one-dimensional

who imagined two savage animals
yet paused to think
as he drowned

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