Like Loose Dogs

If you cannot, then you mustslip off the rim of your stout blue cup,run quicksilver on what can only be called toils,the twin toils of posture and tired gates,rustbound to a hinge - slim passage -the way mice flatten and slip into a cupboard,chew your rice, your wire, and every fiberof what was pantried, constant... Continue Reading →

Away My Love

Come away.Come away and slurinto hovelling gray,away from the heatshummed low - away. Come, let us carrythis mute owl nightfar from burgeoning day -away - far from the furyof gospel - far -far from the scurryof commerce - away, Into some bold and barrenmoon scraped glen,smoothed with teeth and talonand then, away - awayinto the... Continue Reading →

Because First I Found Your Eyes

If I had taken your handbefore finding your eyes;if I had traced the chippedrounds of your nails,and slid there - downto the calloused pads;if I had awakened a papercut, austere in the burdensof your fingers, would youhave recoiled, thought me -Fresh, unbounded, soiled? I would assumethat if I had mappedthe circuit of your toilsbefore meeting... Continue Reading →

On Rogue Waves and Love

Oh these blind trajectories,these pure set conditions,initial, merry, just so wandered -a shell thus thrown, a plungedalbatross beak, a shearedstab of ice, a moon’s pulland a breath elastic - All these and a calculus,as crest to valley lumbersin its way - sine to sine -chopped though ever freeand unlapped after. Yes, that is how to... Continue Reading →

The Dishes My Love

What was it, that chocolate crustscorched in the pot from yesternight,leaning, off-burner, with the danglingspoon, wooden and stained? Best give it a soak, my love,that tomorrow we may findits nature framed tight in stainless,framed tight in the soap bubblesthat have raced and clingto the round squat walls. Perhaps we may find, tomorrow,among the gray pepper-flecked... Continue Reading →


Come, O Love for down the vale,Where moonlight frocks the lovers’ tale,Where moonlight mulls the staves of treesAnd shreds the fuschia from the leaves. Come, O Love for down the vale,Where cleave and stumble long prevail,And woolen grass reveals the pressOf all that slept there shorn of dress. Come down the vale for it is... Continue Reading →

Light Without Hands

If the sun rose without you,thin-lipped and petty,a day would slump over me,either frigid or thick-steamed. And no cool wind will pass the trees,And the sun, a mere mock of warmth,will tumble west that is sure,certain as rock in a dry creek bed. For what is a light without handsto hold it? And what is... Continue Reading →

The Long Familiar

You left hair in the tub, toothpaste splatter on the mirror, a wadded towel on the rod, wet footprints on the floorboards marking a stumble to the kitchen where you guzzled milk from the carton, there with the door open, cold spilling out like flumes to your feet - and I loved it. A sudden... Continue Reading →

Of Roots and Bitters

So smooth and piquant then. Remember? Our love a puree of roots and bitters, quick peppered, swift boiled blobbed up and sulphurous. Melting the ladle, melting the pot, smoking the burner, firing the whole damn kitchen down. Yes, it still stings my lips, flaps on my uvula, something never fully swallowed but scorched on a... Continue Reading →

Website Powered by

Up ↑