January 2011
7 posts
objects
We shared a Remington hairdryer
but it blew out a few weeks after she died.
There was a burnt smell, and the hot air scream
died down, forever, with her.
slow go
the night my feet went naked
on the sea,
walking my reflection on
the crisp crochet moon,
my mouth made you,
sandman
like the kiss of a name,
the mooring of a shoulder.
I lay down
in the thought of you,
dunes for my pillow
where the dotterels
shrilled.
while the sky slowly burns me
How sordid is the raw earth
above your body,
the plastic pink flower
on another person’s grave,
the jar of brown water
and floating stems.
I walk in the rows
while the sky slowly burns me,
and makes me sweat.
I touch the thigh of a white angel
at the door of mausoleum, but
I’m afraid to
touch her face,
hairline-cracked. How sad
are the sunken-in crosses
and cracked...
melaleuca
in the estuary there are nymphet girls,
slim-bodied, with doe limbs and navy swimsuits
that cross over on their fauny backs.
they’re gliding on the
insistence of the tide, facedown
in the water, snorkel masks
suckered to their cheeks. and they
drift into my ankles, and they startle
unselfconsciously. I remember
to remember them,
twin mermaids, unafraid of
crushed jellyfish...
j'oublie
In the sea
of my sleep,
I drifted up,
a raw body
surfacing into the dark,
hands slow
to my face -
yes - I felt
tears that woke me
from
sad dreams
I don’t recall.
a room burning
The light passes through him,
passes between
the rooms of my heart,
blind corridors he
navigates by night
for a glass of water.
He frays open like a sewn mouth,
bandage unwound,
soft scream beneath my palm -
I let him in,
where the other feet walked across
my welcome mat,
subservient hands on the floor
and creeping out of bed.
In my imagination,
he cries about innocence
and sad...
phosphorescence
Stepping out over the sand in the dark,
we let the water soak our jeans;
organisms of light circled
around our feet,
came, with each wave
we questioned God.
The cliffs draped like curtains into hell,
black and all-swallowing
in our grainy eyes, looking out - there to eternity,
which seems so much closer
in the rising night beneath our
clumsy voices, our heels
in the flaccid bodies
of...