the moon is a rabbit
keeping itself warm
on this not-yet-summer night
it doubles up on itself
in all that darkness
Tag: write
cattus interruptus (20170607)
copland on the stereo
the cat mews for attention
writing time is over
the life you save (20170606)
approach from behind
place your arms
around their torso
under their arms
[if you can manage it]
if they’re flailing
and their eyes are
rolling up
staring backwards at
frontal lobes
just go ahead
and encircle their arms
as well
[since it probably won’t
make much difference now]
bracing with your left
make a fist of your right hand
and a stone of your heart
drive one or the other
forcefully into
their diaphragm
force those lies
they’re choking on
up and out
clean their face liberally with
water and allow
to air dry
——
for
dVerse ~ Poets Pub
Poetics: Poems that could save your life
stormy weather (20170605)
i blow your house down
like an ill-tempered storm
or come down your chimney
some kind of psychopath santa
crowbar open your windows
with words both iron and soft
but you remind me
it’s not my house
if i can’t open the door
——
buying the ant farm (20170604)
i wave at you
separated by a thin pane
of plexiglass
and wish you would
turn my way
wish even more
that these chemical signals
i am emitting
could pass through
this see through wall
trapped in parallel
we dig and tunnel
and carry our dead
while gargantuan eyes
track our moments
tap on the wall
and collapse ceilings
as this while
you walk left
and i walk right
but separated as we are
we never encounter
one another
and i wish these chemical signals
were vowels and consonants
and i wish i could send a smoke signal
that would rise above this flatland
and you could turn your head
skyward
and read me
philosophical dialogue #7 (20170603)
–do not confuse forward movement
with progress, he says
he cleans a fingernail
with the point of a knife
i huddle in a corner
all of my skin
curled in ribbons
at my feet
but surprisingly
there is not a drop of blood
–why is that? i ask
he shrugs
–just forward movement, he says
–but not progress?
he offers a smile, the first in hours
—let’s see about progress
after we’ve cut your
eyes free from those sockets
lizards in freshly tilled earth (20170602)
i become a slight movement in the earth
a ripple through fecund soil
crawl with my belly against a warming mother
so warm i hear my pores open
welcoming the sunlight like a friend
long-forgotten
futility (20170601)
there comes a certain
satisfaction–i will not
call it joy–in futility
not in the inability
or the inevitability
but in the finality
the having an answer
of their being no doubt
shadows at their darkest
at their hungriest
yes, and stars, too
too hot to approach
and yet the calming whisper
–so it goes
no new skin (20170531)
i have nothing
left to lift
not my hands
not my eyes
nor raise my ire
peace is all
overwhelming
turgidity
slowness that is stillness
unmoving like summer rain
or heavy syrup
heavy as the earth
beneath my feet
i shed my skin
one last time
with no intent
of emerging clad
in a new glistening
sheath
belly (20170530)
no swelling music
just a swelling
of the gut
Words and Feathers 