hold the flashlight up
under my chin
like a suicidal jedi knight
breathe out
empty those lungs yogi-style
in the light a vapor forms
the amorphous shape
undulates away
disappears as water droplets
spread and the temperature
between them and the adjacent air
becomes insignificant
exhale again
step into
the little cloud of myself
feel nothing
neither the sudden cooling
of nighttime sea spray
nor the volcanic steam
of the just finished running dishwasher
just nothing
and is this
–i wonder aloud to the dog–
what ghosts don’t feel
when they pass through
one another?
Tag: wrting
moveable wounds (20200130)
the ground bleeds with each gust of wind
bullet holes appear on the mulch
on the pavers
tempted to leave the festering wounds
since they will fade to pink
and later onion-skin transparent and brittle
in this dry weather
violent eruptions of color
pocket universes
alternate dimensions seeping
oozing into my own
fruit (20191017)
my mother used a paring knife
slipped it in under the stem
like an assassin
and spun the blood red strawberry
in one motion
twisting out unwanted green leaves
then used the same knife to slice
small rings that radiated white to pink
to red
dropping them in a bowl
no two slices the same size
i use a tool like a tiny melon-baller with teeth
designed to gouge out the stem
little waste but more than my
mother would approve of (or leave)
with her small knife
it is a convenience
as is the strawberry slicer
humorlessly designed to resemble
a strawberry (insert a
stop cutting yourself joke here)
maybe so i won’t try to use it
to slice olives or golf balls
every piece is the same width
except for the end pieces
which sometimes get stuck
between the blades
or the bottom of the tray
our recipes differ in the application
of sweetener
i think she used a quarter cup of sugar
for every basket of strawberries she sliced
i am less generous and use maple sugar
trying to keep things less processed
(though sugar is sugar)
i don’t use two pints of half and half
though sometimes i sneak in some
almond milk (unsweetened)
we agree on using pie crust as a superior
supporter for its texture to sponge cake
and really, sponge cake?
i think about those pictures of
brains, images as slices, PET or CAT scans
(not all pets are cats,
but are all CATs PETs?
is this where the
syllogism breaks?)
what did her images look like?
i clean red stains from my fingers
once her memories were gone
were the lobes smooth
the crenellations filled in
like a smooth coating of chocolate
hiding the pits
and seeds in the skin of the strawberry
each a potential synapse where
a memory haunted like a little ghost
i measure my head
against the bed of the slicer
i might be able to fit an eyeball in there
just in time for halloween
exoskeletal echo (20190921)
beneath the dry soil
water-smoothed rocks
the ground exhales
a fine cloud of dust
as you excavate
i found once
the desiccated remains
of a hungry ghost
translucent and as white
as the moon
in the morning sky
it had eaten its fill
and moved on to bigger
hopefully better things
though
what does a ghost eat
besides the memories
and the breaths of the living
in close up, the peach pit looks like a crater pocked moon (20190827)
let us go then
you and i while
this little light
fails in caution tape stipes
of yellow against green
yellowing grass
everything rolls up
in the egg roll
layer by layer
by layer
like a handroll
with krab, avocado
and mermaid meat
easy on the shoyu
the dog pants
the dogs pant
the dog’s pants
the table etherized patient
has 100,000 miles
of arteries and veins
stretched tightly
when plucked
the vibration is invisible to
the human eye
the sound so high
it cannot be heard
except by resonance
in the blood
revenant (20170213)
this is how we find us
broken open
like the head of a fine
china doll
this space between
this silence a ghost
of words
this silence a slow fade
of smiles
a spectral liminal shade
we touch
the sound of yellowed paper
rustling
——
