logical switch-up
my mature places heavy
so went my mouthful
Tag: write
New Readings
Yes, my friends. TWO new readings. One is a delightful tale of a fowl-tempered friend brought to us by Poet Rummager. You can check out her awesome artwork on her site, too.
The other is the fifth most popular, and previously unrecorded, poem from my site from last year.
Head over to the January Open Mic Page and scroll down to listen. Be there, or be rectilinear on a two dimensional plane.
shih/the army (20170115)
these parasites and guardian angels
swarm in my guts, hum in my skull
a force to be reckoned with
small green army men cast in my own image
dig wells, harvest springs
bound in chains light enough to work in
there are keys but not all bonds are
slavery
on the nature of desire (20170114)
your skin is a sin
or at least
invites to me sin
(if there is such a thing)
all i know is
hell’s flames
can’t be as hot
as your breath on my neck
lacerations (20170113)
glass hearts
beautiful as they catch
scatter the light
how quickly they cut
when shattered
——
image courtesy of morgue file
http://mrg.bz/bb8e5d
mysteries (20170112)
her chin rests
against her chest
and though i hear no sighing
i see it in the
slump of her shoulders
and how her face has to move
to smile
as if catching up
with the idea
the art of breathing deeply (20170111)
you take a deep breath
outside after the rain
realize how much better off
you are
not breathing that
recirculated air
from your colleagues
with their
i-swear-i’m-not-contagious
phlegmy brachial spasms
but out here
the closest people
are a couple of high school girls
a football field away
that smell like candy
when they pass
and they could give a shit
about the wheels turning
in your head
so the thought settles in
we are all stardust
not in a magical
we’re-all-special-snowflakes way
or even a
my-god-we’re-so-insignificant way
but just this just this
just
this
you could be breathing
in an atom of air
once breathed out
by abraham lincoln
hammurabi or adolph hitler
even the heavy panting of
some prehistoric saber-toothed cat
looking to make a meal out of the
hominids
we are all complicit in that
decay and triumph and violence
who needs little crackers
and plastic shot glasses
of grape juice to claim communion
we are all breathing it in
good and bad
but jesus
what are we adding to the atmosphere
rain on a workday afternoon (20170110)
this rain stops
time stops
the asphalt blooms
oil-black lakes
reflected headlights
stare back
from depths that disappear
with the wind’s breathing
but for now
hollow white eyes
gaze from nothing
heaven’s mirror
a hollow mass of gray wool
stretched overhead
salad in the making (20170109)
we fill up the room
like eggs coming to a boil
in a stainless steel pot
jostling one another
breaking our skins
escaping into
salty water
hardening into thin ribbons
the sulfur smell
that is us
the bits of calcified shell
that are us
we float in salty water
we bounce and break
our centers harden
little suns
gone still
second place (20170108)
seeking a warm lap
the cat curls across my thighs
–my daughter is gone
Words and Feathers 