words gripping mallets
my rib cage a xylophone
you make my bones sing
Tag: bones
what the moon is made of (20160618)
the sun isn’t even down
and the moon has already
more than cleared the horizon
(i could measure the angle
using that old trick by
laying fist on top of fist
like bricks)
only a ghost hiding behind clouds
that roll like cream
curdling in pale, lemon-heavy tea
did i say ghost?
the moon is a pile of
polished bones
rounded by a little circle
it sees things
and my bones see things
and from the sky
i can see myself look up
at myself
wondering when i will blink
finger bones (20160614)
today my hands hurt
and i struggle with the clay
cutting the base free
to mount it on more clay
to raise it up
the finger bones ache
and i think a good use for them
would be a mala necklace
i ignore the pain
in the joints
but feel it while driving home
these little betrayals
of body makes
a little more paunch
a little less hair
a little more nose
a lot more jowl
so many more things to worry about
and the constant threat
of pain in the feet
of pain in the hands
the chest
memento mori
i count these off
on my finger bones
om mani padme hum
——
bones like flutes (20160610)
we are all
musical instruments
flutes made of bone
femur and tibia
radius and ulna
so many ribs
bleached and hollowed
drilled with precision
so that the wind
passes over us
and plays us
a dry harmony
we wait for rain
to reflesh us
and take up
our own voices
once again
bones (20160529)
count the bones
twenty-one
white and glistening
polished and shining
these are private bones
these are bones
that have never seen a graveyard
they clack and rattle
they tick like a clock
night song (poem 20160521)
latticework honeycombs
where bees make blood
instead of honey
all the same to vampires
(i’ve wanted to sink my teeth
into the soft skin of your neck
on more than one occasion)
marrow sitting deep
inside singing and humming
i can hear it while you sleep
calling my name
i curl around you
offering warmth in exchange
——
Poem 20160315
the last fall of rain
did little to put out
a fire burning
in the marrow of my bones
smoke enough to choke
and a rough slurry of ashes
were all that cleansing
could effect
the heavens will have to spare
more water than there is
in all seven seas
to drown me
Poem 20151223
a thousand thousand bones
make up the human heart
it takes but a single
hairline fracture
to feel broken
one split bone
is enough to cause sorrow
a snapped bone
weeping
a bone shattered like glass
despair
Poem 20150906
like one of those science books
with transparent plates
of the human body
where the first layer has the skin
–always the best
because you can see all the dirty parts
even though it’s usually ugh the guy–
then you peel back a layer
and it’s all muscle
which is still kind of cool
after that
arteries and veins
and viscera
and you keep going
past the nerve tissue
until it’s just bones left
that’s how i imagine you
after peeling off your layers
year after year
getting through the outside
which is pretty damn exciting still
and through your guts
all the way to your bones
Poem 20150831
we hollow them out
the insides of bones
the insides
where the marrow sits
we hollow them out
we dig with our fingers
through the hollow channels
of our bones
whatever it is
that sits in our bones
whatever it is
the fills the bones up
before we hollow them out
we scoop it out
and make them hollow
using drills made for brownies
and pixies
we honeycomb our hollow bones
and make them lighter
getting rid of–
making ourselves lighter
making ourselves light
and we fly
and we
Words and Feathers 