Saturday, July 31, 2010

for one night*

last night we went to the fair
lights and songs in the rain
smoke and cheap beer everywhere
bobbing, weaving was our own game

ten years lurking behind us
it was worth the downpour,
the highway robbery, the fuss
i wanted you, nothing more

it was necessary to see you
to by sure the glow was still there
be sure your love for me was true
it was. and we hugged at the fair

i felt your warm stare fall on my face
ten times as i drank from plastic cups
i blushed, you beamed, love was everyplace
striped tents leaked as yellow lights lit up

i was the happiest refugee, in your arms
for one night i was nowhere to be found.
only you. only me. sneaking into your arms
the warm rain kept falling on the ground.

maybe you could have stayed above
maybe we would have stayed safe
maybe i should have chosen your love
(maybe it would have rained everyplace)

you still want me
in your heart
i still want you
rain, rain
soaks my heart

Friday, July 30, 2010

go to bed, kitty

silly kitty i can sing you a funny tune
make you scuffle and dance about the room
find your little jingle bell
cast your little kitty spell


the darkness inside of me is spilling like
scalding coffee and burning the last
parts of you that are still hanging onto
the light while my blackness steals your
breath and strangles your trust. don't
pretend that you don't read my letters.

the secret parts of me that you thought
you knew are twisting labyrinths of secrecy
and my desires are climbing higher than
the stairways you build to my heart.
suddenly i am sinking into stinking piles
of laundry and the darkness feels right.

the darkness of a warm summer night is
Shakespearean and romantic, cloaking
lovers in secrecy. but my darkness is
like the bottom of a deep ocean cave-
lifeless, loveless. you'll drown before
i love you and i'll leave before you know.

Thursday, July 22, 2010


If I knew you, Anne Frank
there's no time left. here. grab your scarf.
urgency and the pain of farewell are illuminated
by the way you lean against the window
by the way the stained lace curtain hangs
(reminding me of mother's floured apron).
there is danger here in the light of the slivered,
crescent moon and you must grab your coat.

creaking hinges. rusty skeleton keyhole. photos rest now.
cupboards and closets house our memories and lifetimes
and the love we shared on christmas morning,
cider and cookies hang on my mind like a spicy fog.
but it's true that we might die in the street
tonight. the rattle of keys and the shuffle of feet
send me flying and send you to find your breath.

your mitten lays for years on the wooden floor
after you've dropped it, long after you you've vanished
from this place. when i see sparkled sun across the river
i see shards of broken hazel in your sparkling eyes.
i see your tiny face light up as you opened your present.
beautiful refugee. in my dreams, you escaped every time.

bad behavior*

stealing away out the side door
looking for muddied knees
a childhood breeze
and unprocessed sunlight
stepping around soda cans
to leave unnoticed again

i'll drink down a stale day
searching for waterfalls
and the sound of whispering
ferns, exhaling deeply
the leftover shadows of noon
carving your name in tree trunks

standing tall, i am still small
beside the weary cedars
ashes strip down to nothing.
i ignore his call into the wind
losing my grace with every step
i'm on a path to darker woods

i'll slip back in through a cracked
window try to hide my dusty feet,
deny the flush in my cheeks.
he holds me like i'm a child
smelling the open air and grass
in my hair. i'll stay here tonight.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010


why does it have to be that
i have to drink so much
before i can think straight?
before i can stop looking
for you here and there
i checked six times
and there was still nothing
there to wait for but
i waited anyway.
you were out there living
singing songs in the street
and twisting pepper shakers.
are you worth the wait?
are you worth the jingling tips
in your thought jar?
another pissed off letter
i should have mailed to you
sat in my car for weeks.
not a day goes by
(floating or speeding)
that i don't hear you
talking about cities
or building mountains
you can stay or go
but don't forget
to check unnecessarily for me
the way i do for you.

Monday, July 19, 2010

sweep me*

sweep me off my feet
i am very sad inside
i am very terrified
we have to meet

don't sweep me away
under the rug or
deny me your hug
i'm slipping today

you could sweep through
the town where i live
you have love to give
i tick, waiting for you

drink up and sweep me up
forget what's behind
look ahead and find
me and sweep me up

Saturday, July 17, 2010

bay area morning

bluesky treelines hanging on birdsongs
it's a tricky time of day
borderline sleeping, waking, breathing
toasters popping in a quiet town
it's a tricky place to be

lakesongs wavering along shorelines
no one's really awake here
dividinglines crashing, blurring, breathing
baitshops opening in a laketown
no one's really alive here

headphones humming into brainwaves
the cashier knows me
drivinglanes swerving, speeding, passing
fisherman swearing in line
cashiers work til 8 here

Thursday, July 15, 2010

planet song

the end of the universe
clouds and stars
earth and mars
retrograde motion
waves on the ocean
celestial galaxy
creation fallacy
calvino's cosmocomics
robots and electronics
moon's beating heart
glowing, falling apart
spinning constellations
infinite contemplations
sensuous solar winds
spiraling static sins
saturn and venus
planting female genius
inside supernova fire
exploding heavenly desire
sing a song into the onyx
sing now to avoid the end

Wednesday, July 14, 2010


someone stayed up late into the orange- mooned night waiting for me.
one lamp shining in the dark a cup of cooled tea on the counter.
book pages turning slowly plots with solemn endings and holidays.
wallclock ticking and resounding inside someone's messy thoughts.

i was blundering breaking down doors breaking into hearts.
door knobs and splinters incriminating me as my past faded.
low harvest moon illuminating tea cups and bloody hands.
trust in the hands of a judas and someone will cry for help.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010


you can have her.
heavy metal. violent rap beats.
she's got black fingernails and a sexy smile.
rocking out with hands down the guys' pants.
you've gotten her this far. now watch her go.

i'll be fine here.
quiet beam. 1, 2, 3, 4.
i'm winter white mittens and pink lipped smiles.
gentle whispers of syncopated sounds and verses.
you left me long ago. don't act dejected or forgotten.

take her out. give her love.

don't you miss me at all?

Monday, July 12, 2010

stale marlboros and dad's pickup

you'll catch a plane
just to get lost
but you'll still
carry a stick of
your brother's favorite
gum, it's somehow safe.

you'll catch a fever
when she makes you hot
when you're not thinking
clearly, but you'll feel
the sinking tomorrow
over diner coffee.

catch your breath.
you'll be running forever
so for now just stop.
and read this.
but hold tight
to your ticket.

you'll never catch me.
i've found the keys
to your pickup and
i'm lighting up
your smokes, though
they're tired and stale.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

lightning dream*

our cheeks
flushed like
pink clouds aglow
with sultry lightning
passionate and
unfolding our tragedy

i need you
with the
electric energy
flaring blue
and white hot
in sinful bed
of heavy clouds

billowing castles
of our desire
light up the
churning expanse
of heaven
and we ascend
just for tonight

a rush of
panicked salty
hands and
leaves me
burned and hollow
and we go up in flames

Monday, July 5, 2010

mississippi flyway

cobalt summer sky drowns
in night
hanging on
losing light.
autumn is in motion
skirting the shores
of summer
like waves on the ocean.
mothers and babies
have no map or direction
but they prepare
for a journey...
uncharted perfection.
singing along a path
of anscestors
and legends
beating wings speed
driven by forces of
primal need.
unaware of
inevitable mouring.
death crouches in
the waves,
the inky stains of
diaster wait in the
light of morning.
pink skies drown
in the black
and the mothers sink
like stones.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

long years, empty hallways*

i was in my white tee shirt
nothing beautiful
got my feelings hurt
but it was musical
you could take off
my tee shirt
it would be beautiful
waiting in a hallway
mascara and headphones
a time too far away
to taste now
but i still hear
the thudding grunge music
felt my heart breaking
to the tune of your smile
i should have taken off
my teeshirt
and watched your face
it would have been beautiful
it's easier to dream
and wish
than to face the memories
and the music
easier than seeing your face

Thursday, July 1, 2010

concerning your alcoholic aunt

someone should tell you
that she's tripping
all over her wheels
and losing all your cash
she's sipping away your trust
laughing and crying, prying
into her secret stash

she's never been late
she always sopping wet
brimming up to her eyes
soaking up your words
and leaking out her
chances on a risky bet

a little while later

you could lace her
lover with sedatives
and drive her crazy
drive her away
into her cool glass
while she mumbles
something sad
and lazy

someone should tell you
she died a long time ago
in her main st apartment
windows closed
closets open
but no one wants
to admit that
they know


he's a stranger in a city
someplace where
it's muggy and damp
and he's writing
letters home

driving miles

driving miles on the highway
going easy 62
nodding flowers by the highway
speckled green in blue
the sax inky black on the highway
feelin' kind of blue
'round midnight on the highway
i want all of you