Morning mourning.
July 2019Morning mourning.
I am childless
and bleeding
into a silicone cup inside
of me.
We were careful.
I am 22 years old
and I feel there’s something
asleep inside
of me.
You held me sincerely
in this dream
and a few days later, too,
to remind me you were real.
You cared, really
All I need to do now is
mourn this loss.
There’s no misunderstanding,
no hurt.
Just an abundant
emptiness
without you.
A Commute
October 2015leaving & metro & speed train & taxi & two hours
& you,
hello –
we have the afternoon but
we will forget the time
so when the alarm rings
I have 15 more minutes against your chest
afraid of what you will say
more afraid of what you will not say
even more afraid that I won’t say what you don’t say
nothing necessary is said – but
I know there will be goodbye & then
taxi & late train & metro & walking home & two hours
of you in my head,
goodbye, goodbye,
bye-bye ––
good.
I make eye contact
June 2015I make eye contact
with the bathroom sink
look where the water drains
my toothache
my flavorless toothpaste
my mouth trying to
speak your new name
Your hands are so far away
but my waist is right here
lonely in front of the mirror
And if I’m one of the ones you like so much
September 2015And if I’m one of the ones you like so much
why did I say no
when you asked for a kiss
it was a joke that had half the sincerity
–– not enough to take seriously
–– enough to arouse with possibility
what is left unsaid
what is left undone
not what words mean but what they suggest
not what we do but what we could
And if I’m one of the ones you like so much
that’s all that there is to it
I’m finger painting with blood
April 2015I’m finger painting with blood
and my fingernails are like nails
being hammered into the gravity
of a body, slowly eating
flames and plastic fires
stripping moisture from this
air we are barely breathing
the way my hands tear
at my own coconut shell of
a body, a seed gulping water
to drill out of the soil, thirsty
for spilled oil, the way blood
spills, painting our fingers
with blame, but look at this flame
our brains dry
like walnuts
On a mushroom cloud of love
May 2015On a mushroom cloud of love
in a hurricane eye of love
in a skydive abyss of love
in a freestyle waltz of love
in a butterfly dance of love
the helium heart bursts into song
springs from left to right to wrong
O such fool of a heart
Where are the happy poems?
July 2015Where are the happy poems?
you ask
–– happiness is lived
these words are just therapy
This month’s horoscope says
May 2015This month’s horoscope says,
“Make time for romance"
which means,
show me the golden gate
bridge to your heart
let me hike the hills
of your spine
I miss the wine of your kisses
my mind bathes
in the redwood forest
and you are my redwood tree
marxist man & communist cock
September 2014marxist man & communist cock
share the love around
put emotions on the balance
mathematical calculations
share the love around
the hungry needs food
but starve on ideological carbs
the thirsty needs water but
drown in irrigation farms
love is what the heart needs
love is what the asshole receives
emaciated penis & educated mind
the books are empty words
it’s the body that truly speaks
share the love around
before politicians wear their crowns
and carry the love away
do not succumb to
It all begins with an idea.
March 2015do not succumb to
sadness ––
submit yourself
to big cocks
not depression