Tag: words

the weather (20171108)

crow8 Comments

and now
the weather report

tonight will be cold
mostly cloudless

the earth will exhale
homeless who do not have
a sleeping bag
or a tent to crawl into
or a car empty of gas but with windows

they will slide
into chambers like bullets
that can’t can’t can’t can’t
penetrate flesh
or tolerance

lucky for them
this is the coast
where the ice age
doesn’t descend
in sheets of actual ice

lucky for them
the weather is mild
lucky for them
lucky
they are lucky

they are knives
seen through windows
turn turn turn up the radio
they cannot cut
if they are sheathed

their cardboard magic spells
their incantations
they will not not not alter this

they will go hungry
they will become hungry ghosts
they will be silent as a vacuum is silent

untitled (20171105)

crow1 Comment

how many hearts
how many prayers
balance the scale

the moon is the color of blood
the color of rust
the color of flattened lead

twenty-six stars wink out

who would ever think
such a thing would
[not]
happen

those who ask this question
would find a special
place in hell
if we ever needed
such a place

straight to the heart (20171103)

crow7 Comments

i offered an open door
and like the vampire you are
you came in and starting
drinking everything in sight

i’ve learned from all
those hammer horror movies
that there’s no easy way
to rescind an invitation

my best bet is to stock
the fridge with curated holy water
and spread garlic aioli on everything
like a pretentious asshole

while you’re busy avoiding
mirrors
i’ll be sharpening my stakes
and looking for a mallet

naiku (20171029)

crow10 Comments

a gentle breeze
sucker punches the sycamore
not enough to bend it double
but enough to knock loose
a few leaves like teeth
spiralling and spinning
on their way down

a squirrel eyes me
suspiciously
like i’m the one
who egged the wind on
so i give him the finger
since my dog is too old
to give a shit
about a squirrel
halfway up a sycamore

how calming the wind is
how beautiful this fall dance
of leaves/teeth
how angry the squirrel
clinging like spiderman
to the bark

it’s a good
autumn day

the skin you’re in (20171028)

crow12 Comments

stop picking at it
is good advice

the nail slips under
the edge of the brown, cracked scab
lifting
lifting slowly
watch the old coagulation
crease and sweat serum
as it rolls up

you’ll leave a mark
you’ll make a scar
why do that to your skin
once so soft so

[the insides of eggs are soft
but so are omelettes]

dig
dig
into flesh
not frantically
you’re not a beast
this is science
after all
a white coat
a bunsen burner
a double-blind

how many times
can you heal
over in the same spot
before the blood gives up
before the skin gives up
before the heart gives up

the inevitable weight of words (20171026)

crow3 Comments

all i want out of this life
the only thing i want
the only thing i ever asked for
was to relax next you in bed
clothes off under the covers
curling toward you like a seahorse
without either one of us
being a slave to the clock or the cat
and just laying there feeling the heat rise
off your skin
and if things get spicy
then we can’t scratch those itches
with long, sharp nails
and why shouldn’t i bury my face
in your hair why shouldn’t i want
apotheosis now instead of later
why do i have to say why not
why are those even words