skeletons fighting over a bone (20160911)

the sound of scraping
a spoon in a bowl
like when the ice cream is gone
or we’ve run out of guacamole
but we still have chips

[i’ll eat it off my fingers
if i run out of chips
but chips are so dry if the guac is gone]

where where where
from where does that scraping
sound emanate
bone on bone in the hip
the elbow
the teeth grinding
jaw popping
knuckles straining
and trailing on concrete
like the ape-man we are

it’s just
why does it have to sound like
an edgeless knife
dragged across a desiccated thigh bone

Poem 20160217

a piece of me, a fractured piece of me
and a piece of you, just as jagged

they try to fit to together
–teeth of mismatched gears–

where motion should be smooth
instead the sound of snapping glass bones
screams of angels with cinder wings
bits and pieces falling wetly to the floor

the machinery stops so we mop up the blood
and try again

each time there is less and less of me left
each time there is less and less of you left

this is why we break

unevenly matched where there should be symmetry
but when the gears meet at last–we transcend