the weight of the world

i'm feeling tiny tonight.
an eyelash
a grain of sand
a seed
i'm feeling the miles tonight.
the distance wears
and grinds like salt
on snowy tires
and i'm worn away
and cold.
i'm feeling tired tonight.
a runner
a boxer
a blanket
i'm feeling that exhaustion tonight.
the promises fall
and droop
like eyelids
and i'm missing innocence
while i sleep.
i'm feeling irresponsible tonight.
a teenager
a train wreck
some graffiti
the mistakes splatter
and smear like blood
on the floor
and i'm sorry.
and i'm turning it off now.

baggage & boxes

i can't remember how i got here. do you know- were you with me? i must have unpacked those boxes because these are my candles and my nail polishes and my spoons. i must have had a husband because there is a mark around this finger that is less tan and i keep rubbing the smooth area with my thumb. was my wedding beautiful- were you there? i hope that i was beautiful and that i was thin. i must have had a baby once. there is picture of my fingers holding a first response that says that i did. where did she go? i hope that she had my nose and that she knows her way. did we cry? i can't remember. did i have ever have a garden? i hope that i grew peas and flowers and strawberries. i hope that the deer stole some before i shooed them away. did you ever meet my cat? there is a ball with a bell rolling inside my drawer and it must have been his. i hope that he slept on my feet at night and that he grew fat and old but that i never did. did you leave? i hope that i loved you. i must be alone.

what to do when he's been looking for you

you're leaning there against your car.
he pretends that he's not looking at you,
and you pretend that your leg's not shaking.
He's fifteen
and you're sixteen
and it's not your car, it's your mom's four-door
that you stole from the church parking lot.
you wish that your hair was longer
and that your teeth were whiter,
but all he wants to do is kiss you.

you're leaning against your doorway.
you pretend that you're not three shots
past being too drunk and too lonely.
you're married
and he's a nomad in the city
and it's not that you're depressed,
it's that you're tired and confused and drunk
and feeling fat and abandoned and broke.
so maybe you are depressed.
but all he wants is to find you again.

you're leaning against your shovel
in a town that's pretending that it's not still winter.
among people who think that you're insane.
you are insane,
and he's insane.
and it's not that they just think that you are
you are, but it's over and now you don't drink
but you hide and seek and cry
because he's been looking for you again
and all he wants is to be closer.

you're leaning away from his arm.
you pretend that you're just distracted
and he pretends that he doesn't know that
he's right there
and you're over here,
and it's like he knows that you're broken.
you are, and he can't fix it anyway
but he wants to, and so he touches your hand
and this time you let him
because that's what to do when he's been looking for you...

dear blame

you're the first one in line
being distributed and assigned
a lonely night, an empty glass
a broken window, a kiss in a flash
where are you now?

you're hanging on my rib cage
disjointed words on the page
a hollow pleasure to pass you
hidden next in the queue
what have you done now?

you're slurring with alcohol
dripping from tongues that call
calling for redemption
on the brink of condemnation
where has the judge put you now?

you'll never let us keep sleeping
never sleep until i'm weeping
when he's too tired to remember
when he's trying to love me forever
you've had your way-
will you leave us alone now?

i never wanted you here
i was shaking when i heard him calling
i felt sick when i saw you coming

married christmas

In the shadow of a rain cloud
Through the droplets on my window
I'm muted by your buttons
I'm muted by your sorrow
the phone has long ceased ringing
There's nothing else you can know

Through weeks of Christmas raining
The wreaths are caked with mud
Youre waiting for my ringing
And muted by the carol singing
The snow will miss this holiday
There's nothing else you can say

Next to Jesus in a manger
we could pray a little louder
muted by the choir tongues
hushed by a stranger in muted light
you were left on your own last year
There's nothing else you can fear

gin and tonic

when i'm running from you
it's today.
when it's our time
it's now.
you dressed me a gown
you landed in my town
you mended that dress
i reveled in my mess
that's yesterday.
a drink in the snow
a christmas no-show
it's possible.
when i'm missing you
it's today.
when it's past time
it's now.
i tipped your glass
you watched me pass
you drank it down
i started to drown
it's tomorrow.
i'll stop running
you'll stop sipping
if you'll be my chaser
if i can be your chaser

dearest vulpecula

you'll die alone in the sky
that flash of cunning in your eyes
won't save you from the night
though you'll gnash and gnaw and bite
your cage and the neck of the goose
you'll never be set loose
from those tragic, starry ties

i'll die alone in the trees
that flash that only god sees
in that prism of northern light
i can't be saved by my sight
though i search the dust for your tracks
your soft black toes padding back
to your den, again
to evade me despite my pleas

we'll die as sketches on the page
that flash of life that we waged
a blue eyed girl, a black eyed beast
alike in our wild mystery, at least
i ate the heart, you ate the goose
you chased your grave, i tied my noose
come,little fox, paws to hands to our grave

chasing Anser through the dark
you burn out like a spark
light years wisping through our fur
to your den, again
to my arms, again

outer space

i was a comet once- a burst of light
you watched my tail aglow in the sky
a lighthouse in your stormy night
all at once i faded
all at once you lost sight
alone again under and over the sky

i was a galaxy once- a cluster of stars
you caught the train to my center
into my churning version of mars
a trip into a blackhole
a lifetime in a second
humming again inside and outside time

i was aura borealis once- a wash of color
you painted me with fingers and brushes
a canvas for our crimson flushes
solar winds blew into quiet places
meteor showers washed our faces
tuesdays and sundays didn't mean a thing

i am a constellation- a body with no bones
you connect my shape tonight
invisible lines to my arms and face
a puzzle for your telescope
an answer to your horoscope
you're sitting alone on your porch
while i'm spinning in your outer space
(searching for your inner space)

don't you

don't you step away tonight
don't you step away the night
won't you sleep instead of dance?
i can see the night's significance
on your face while you're signing
"i love you" with your hands
i don't know how to dance.

don't you brush the hair from my face
don't you dust the shadow from my space
won't you tangle me up and leave a mess?
i can feel the insignificant combing of
your fingers as they make a home
in the paths along on my scalp
i don't know how to brush you.

don't you tell me that i should cry
don't you hold me while i try
won't you? all at once i'm everywhere
i'm a broken bone, a broken home
spin your dance, weave your comb
there's that swelling in your shins
the ache of cleaning with a mop of my hair

i feel the wait now
don't you?

lonely be

it's rather lonely being me
though i'm a little buzzing bee
humming from petal to leaf to tree
seeking out a sweeter honey

long ago i made a hive
a simple place to sleep and hide
with a little hole to peep outside
but the storms tore it open wide

i hummed along beside the lake
in the lupines my nest to make
but in a snowy blast and shake
my warmth was stolen by the flakes

to the hive of the queen mother
seeking the company of my brothers
i tried to land and work with others
but i could only hum and hover

perhaps i'll zip into the raging sea
forsaking flower, nectar and honey
maybe sweetness never will suit me
only to be buzzing and lonely be

you should go to church

a clink in the glass
with my icy fingers
she walks away
meditation on the floor
with my prayer hands
he flies to the wind
a bread without flour
for my ragged soul
she sets the table


a bullet to the face
with a cocked smile
alone with my teeth
a flake in the clouds
on salted highways
he shovels out
a page in the hymnal
turning ragged pages
she turns away


a tangle in my hair
with christmas strings
she trims the tree
reflection on the pew
with my prayer hands
we begin to pray
a basket of apples
for my fingers
we went away

cities fade like silver

i have crept away from the trees
swept away on a concrete breeze
to lands of lights and sounds
where sirens howl like hounds
bloody and shivering
i survive on a breath

i have ripped away my last pages
stripped away my clothes in cages
into mazes of sewers and homes
where screens rattle like bones
sweaty and hollow
i survive on bread

i have forgotten my mother
begotten under a dirty cover
into the black coal and steel
where gears grind and peel
dusty and coiled
i survive in a bowl

i have buried my tarnished things
married my paws to silver rings
into the smut and mounds of trash
where rags and babies thrash
filthy and damp
i survive below

i will flee the rapid bloody hounds
fleeting as jeweled sunset pounds
onto the tender forest floor
where my breath can swell and pour
fresh and clear and wide
i will survive

mouse

long ago i wrestled with my sleep,
he was a strong and restless giant.
when you rested deep into my tail,
i told a taller tale of starry eyed
creatures that frightened you.
stay with me.
i'll chase bluefish with my paws
you'll pause to sniff foreign airs
with me, your nest in my tail
we'll nestle down by the silo
in rustling wheats and downs.
stay with me.
our morning births golden hues
winking your blues into the sky
a breath through my teeth sighs
a dewy death for the drops
hush while my crimson cheek
hugs your grey feet, and sleep.
stay with me.

safe in the country

he sat at the end of the drive
2am gravel settling around his shoes
his 2am breath swelling with booze
he sat and waited for her to arrive

his calves hummed on his hog
hot in the sweaty summer air
his jacket made of calves and hair
the hog's thunder woke her dog

her eyes widened inside her head
2am sheets sticky with smoky fear
her 2am sweat swelled with her tears
she laid and waited in her panic bed

she slept to the left of an empty space
closer to the window sill
closer to her gun and will
trembling she crept along to the safe

only the dog was left by her side
since the farmer went away
since the boy did not to stay
since her silky, brown horses died

he left his ride and walked down the way
smiled and lit his cigarette
smiled when he saw her silhouette
the engine's roar slipped farther away

she closed her eyes and tried to dream
ignoring the sinking in her gut
ignoring the stinking, smoky butt
as wisps wafted through her farmhouse screen

she saw the lock's swinging chain
the dog was silent in regret
in the glow of an orange cigarette
in hum of the hog she never breathed again

our faults

in the wash of late summer
our mistakes, our eyes
our stars are bright tonight
underneath a slipping sky
it will all come out for us
in the wash

we stand upon a fault line
what was your fault?
what was mine?
the turning leaves deny us
the time to sort out
our dirty laundry

there's a crooked line
on the surface
of your mouth again
i call it a smile
you call it a fracture
you say it's my fault

it is. and i am slipping
looking up to heaven
wishing upon a star
that you would crack
a smile tonight
and let me in

you named me, like stars
bright and shining
i knelt beneath them tonight
a prayer for you to drift
towards the apostles
apart from all of our faults

i will camp here
your restless daughter
upon the footwall
until you return to me
to the cracks of '83
and embrace our fault lines

floating carnival

red stripes are clearer on a bluer day, illuminating the sky and tent-
today is a gray day
so we can barely spy it and the carnival drifts along the muggy horizon.
clowns' paint is brighter on a fairer day, scaring the weaker goers-
today is sunday
so there is no fair to celebrate and they grin and scream to no one.
our lives are simpler on a slower day, turning the sheets over again-
today is a fast day
so we push our brooms as the carnival grooms the lonely skyline.
sailboats ride smoother on a warmer day, racing along the shoreline-
today is a cold day
so we wait for ice and flakes and forsake their solitary white sails.
the lights and songs are more enchanted in a cloudy castle moat
today is make-believe
so we blink and sing and float high above the salty skyway
wishing for a real day

father's treasure

when they heard you say goodbye,
i felt it.
or maybe you didn't exactly say it,
you just meant it.
said or felt or meant, any which way-
you're gone.

you've gone every which way-
a million places.
or maybe you've just been stuck
in one place.
every way, or no way at all-
you're gone.

there's no way at all you're returning,
i know it.
or maybe there's no way that i am-
just saying.
packing your bags to prospect for gold,
you're gone.

your golden prospects are gone now-
only fool's gold.
or maybe you were just a fool,
you know.
whatever you mean, stop your panning-
don't go.

the boar creeps upon winter

i shimmer down to leaves
snows are coalescing flakes
those frozen spies
are shaking winds
down to the boar's spine
a groan and stretch and i'm fine

my peace is shattered down
to pieces in the snowbank
so few dollars and sun shards
but the forest floor is warm
in the mud and bark
shivering the boar's bristles

wild hooves trample far
away from the tiled floors
to gentle needles
smells of pine and health
surging through my lungs
escaping the forked snake

courageous to a fault
the boar speeds ahead
and i can not be still
at all or long enough
to sip the northern sea
saltless and wild and free

when those coalescing spies
descend
the vulnerable boar is on
the mend
looking for that rabbit
noble friend
a glittering refraction
in a flake
breaking the piggybank
two scents
i see that the hooves
are mine
and i step lightly
to the line
of winter
slowly creeping on

fear ii

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain." ~ Frank Herbert, Dune

There is little left between my nose and the floor. the mat. a few millimeters maybe. arms shaking. legs gradually succumbing to my own weight. but an easy, undulating breath. later, i will be the same again, as before. i will be weak and childish. puking in the early september heat behind some groomed, suburban shrub. tears from the heaving. profanities towards my immobile feet. but for the moment, i am strong. a mascara-eyed warrior battling her own limbs on a fancy-ass mat made from recycled tires. fixating heavily on a shiny, manicured pinky. one minute. five more seconds. chaturanga dandasana complete. breathe. my heart flutters. swooping in, they descend upon me: eka pada rajakapotasana and svarga dvidasana: the pigeon and the bird of paradise. i tumble down to a unsettled pile of feathers. once i hold them, i will set them free. still afraid that they will return to peck at me. love handles, spiders, bills, republicans, whole milk, clowns, and marathons and...

maggots in my dinner. my mother dying in my arms. toxic water. pitch black. the low growl of unseen trucks and animals. the white backroll of eyes. leave your nets. only you will remain.

a proposition for you, sanity

what would you say to playing?
would you?
carnival rides, blinking nights
caribbean snorkels to the deep
greener hills sprouting sheep
wooded trails, northern lights

what would you say to gardening?
would you?
if the wind was right in weeds
i would be knee deep in herbs
whistling to the lazy birds
and you could rake the leaves

what would you say to napping?
would you?
i could try, too. on the sand
rest these busy blues
on salty afternoons
only if you held my hand

what would you say to tea time?
would you?
if you twirled through the honey
in cups, sweet and spicy kisses
help me dry the dishes
and i'll always call you honey

what would you say to staying?
would you?
when peter the hare has fled
i'm rifling through the trash,
looking for my secret stash
of mystery in the garden shed

so what do you say?