i lift my dinner fork
you shuffle your napkin
       parting its petals

i spend 
words and hours
causual hours that would have else
                been spent alone here

we walk in the cold and you tell me 
you feel the fading
of you, between work
home,
and everyone else.
      your fleshy hand raised
up against the rest of your life.

yes she did climb trees ( Read more... )

society is a beautiful woman ( Read more... )

i can still catch you
looking over yourshoulder past
your computer screen

you shift down to scratch your leg
you are still awake

i could walk now
leave
forget my coat

and you would not ask me to write

i could never be your ghost.

it starts as a slurred whisper ( Read more... )

maybe it is your
intensity

that finds the holes i have

in finding something i don't know how to leave.

i love...

the trouble is proving anything further,
scaling its terrible walls

exacting a place
that may not exist,
forcing in your honesty.

love feeds us lines ( Read more... )

When I was four years old ( Read more... )

you have no graves
to shrug into slowly

you instead starve in jungles
living on scraps, muttering

carving out your own moon.

the wind picked over our little house
skeleton first,

bits of dust and things torn out
circling through the filthy air

and my mother cried to her only son
'call down your angels'

knowing I had none.

**********

this has a lot to do with having left my family's religion a long time ago. it was strange to see it come up in a dream.