i don’t know what happens here at the arm of the great barn door the moment the day breaks through itself & the night capsizes between two watery thighs if the earth was made of salt we’d all be starving little belly full of hay sun breeze & a giant mud stage with a tambourine [...]
Tag: poems
The Wolf
it was half-past the time of day when no road was the right road when all the churches were empty and the blues lit up like a highway over the dank southern sun vibes on the street had me feeling like second hand news, the way the sun beat the tile the steel breeze, the [...]
Wild Card
Original artwork by T. Blake the night was broken, as we know, and what was missing was the blood-pink moon i asked a star for directions, on my way due west, i could not say but by the eyes of the owls was led down a staircase that spiraled to the cellar of the earth [...]
Blue Elephant
the morning is flat and has a face, a two-pronged smile and a trunk full of gold, eyes cutting like electric diamonds through the haze the sunrise is magnetic and has teeth, i awaken sharpened and ready for flight, a horde of feathered blue elephants painting clarities across the sky i rub my eyes and [...]
Salt Lick
once upon a— no forget it— **THERE IS NO SUSTENANCE HERE.** this house of bones and hero worship, scraping us all down to the knees, under covers clinging faithless by the knuckles to celebrity skin like cheap porn or moldy wallpaper *best scrubbed thoroughly in the bathroom sink* another shitty politician a can of Pringles [...]
Lady Song
what i want my dear, is a flickering, a little leaping, oh, yes a prodding delicate as a nail, a candle only partially burning, a kiss on the tops of the ears and the drift of a nightgown thin as baby powder, oh, just a little look, my dear, a shiver of the eyelashes, a [...]
Graffiti
what i need is a crayon so i can fill in all the gaps in the colors of the alphabet and all the numbers that code the bars of the graphs that tell us how old we are and how tall we should be and how fast our hearts should be beating and to what [...]
Flo On
the day’s a stale word the kind that’s afraid of an honest mouth (a thing so strangely made) a conversation like a broken arrow, busted wind and a tree of fire, death at the roots of the all the palms, and a half-flung syllable that punches like an empty fist i don’t know about you [...]
Kissing Boys
I used to have wild hair the kind that knit tangles in the keyholes of all the sweaters and knots in the toes of the kissing boys who used to tip toe in after school like little princes to slay that imaginary line between two lips (where we found the kisses we taught not to [...]
Jeans Song
I like to follow you by the scent of your jeans, to linger by the stitches and bury my knuckles in the crooks of the pockets while I dig for the spots where your cologne lies dormant like a seed. Oh, I want to burrow my fingers down. Down to the loops and the tugs [...]