o but were to mercury in retrograde
my steepest ascent,
but love hath made
mine eyes go black
that when you rise to run at last
the skies will close, the earth spin back.

The Book Thief

Thinking about books
about books
reminds me of me
the time I read the Book Thief.\

Why should I care
that she cares
for those ugly things?\

And should I care
for this thing
because she cares
in this thing about
things like this thing?\

Or does she think
if we stop loving books
we’ll stop seeing her
in these things
then she will no longer be a thing?\

Is she fighting for survival?
Was she created
​ to fight for survival?\

Were we?

Cook’s Fridge Watermelon

Watermelon at night:
wiping off my face;
wondering if I might
decide to leave this place.

How then to silence?

How then to silence,
and by what road?
By these lousy earbuds
tapping my drums,
or when removed, the screams
and doubts that take their place?

The open mind screams at itself
close, Close, CLOSE!
The prayer turns itself inside-out.
From God to gods I wander—
a refocus, an attempt
to repent, to live.

To stop living, that I might.

The Solid Middle is Truer Than the Swaying Heights!

At a three P.M. lax
I’m trying to breathe
I’m trying to keep myself
somewhere you’ll reach\

You’re floating away.
You’re floating away.
I’m trying to keep myself
from floating away.

I thought I saw your eyes
look into mine.
I’m trying to keep you
from looking away.

Did you see the beam?
Have I fallen through?
Can I make an us
Out of me and you?

Darling, Darling
I presume you’re my love.
I’m trying to keep you
from carrying on.

Darling, Darling
You coy fickle dove
I feel my heart shudder
when I realize you’re gone.

It makes my heart shudder
to pretend I’m in love.

Crush your crush, blind fool!

By the thumps of my heart!!!!!!!!!!
I’m squealing with glee?
Not so you’ll hear it,
but internally.

Sonnet 1

My God, you never seem to hear my prayers.
The times I pray for you to send some love
I find myself again in deep despair.
Lord, help me if you truly reign above.

An angel did you send to me today,
But I, alone and trapp’d in time, was blind!
So blinded still I went alone to pray
And cursed the way you leave me e’er behind.

My heart is screaming like a distant storm
Whose distance wide the thunder changed into
The groans of foreign fields that thirst no more.
But here and close the silence aches for you.

​ Yet in the risen morn you fill my lungs!
​ By dint of life you’ve shown me to your love!

Something, anything

Alas, you crooked soul!
You have fallen deep into the more:
that mound of despair,
fixing your hair.
You’ve made the quest a chore!

Pour your chalice till it’s full, and trace
your mount’nous fingers ’round my face.
You’re filling me; I’m quiet, closed.
When you’re loving me, I love you most.

Intemperate Heart

I’m burning in Hell!
I’ve lost your gaze?
Your lamp consumes my feet.
No, don’t ask. I’m fine, alright?
I’m frozen stiff, you’re smiling.
Here I am, burning, crying.
I’m melting, red hot snow.
See what you’re doing?
Thaw me, choke me, let me go.

Fortune’s Friend

It’s a challenge, a thing
In a moment I’ll try to disappear
For a moment you froze me with fear
Keep me beneath your wing.

You’ll answer my questions if you ask them
You’ll stab my heart if you guard it
This flower, so well regarded
wilts and perks and withers again.

You’re troubled, so I sing.
Would you were not so near.
Tell me I’ve nothing to fear.
I’m run out of love to bring.

What was it like to begin?
I remember, though now I’m forgotten.
This flower, so well regarded
wilts and perks and withers again.

Valentinian Inquiry 1

Are you wanting? Have you ever climbed a tree in a grassy meadow? Did you sit on a branch and hold your breath? Have you ever watched with sweat on your brow as the lightning bugs danced to the choir of crickets and cicadas? Did you let that drop roll down your temple? Do you want like that? At first, it’s a satisfaction, then it’s a wanting. Or is it? Am I way off target? Have I lost you? I’m sorry. I’m wanting. I’m wanting like the trout in the cold Sierra lake. I’m wanting like the sun’s first kiss on my cold cheeks. Are you?

You are the water bending beneath the water bug’s feet. Are you wanting? Don’t.

Valentinian Inquiry 2

I’m so tired. What it would be to rest in that gentle little slope where your jaw meets your neck, but even that won’t be enough. Even that will never be. I’ve fallen from the rock and let go of his key. My eyes are closed, then open. I’m driving 25, the suburban speed limit, and the trees are pale, bashful. They fear our judging eyes, and the cool wind does the first little bit of undressing. Are they shivering with excitement or exposure? Francis Street. 112, 114, 116, 118. There it is. I stop short of your drive and collect myself. The trees are shivering. A manjal maple leaf slaps my windshield. It summersaults across and falls to the pavement. I need to collect myself, but the trees are shivering, and I’m here. 118. That’s it. The trees are shivering, and soon they will leave all to bear. It’s the cool wind that’s undressing them. They have only loosed the cord, a yellowing that says "I’m ready. Take me." Why are they shivering? No. I’m driving again. I’m driving 25. You’ve a beautiful home from what I saw. My eyes are closed, then open. I’m swimming, Lord, and you’re watching. You’re watching, but I can’t see you. Everything is horizon, but I’m swimming, see? I know you see. I look silly, don’t I? I’m swimming, and all is horizon. I’m sinking. I’m ready. Take me. My eyes are open, then closed.

Fallen and away

Listen, listen. There’s a fluttering.
It happens whenever you touch the truth.
Are you fluttering away?
Are you fluttering away?
Good Lord, we’re fluttering away.
When will the wind learn to be less
than that tickling on my cheek?
Will it ever be still?
Will we?
No; we’re fluttering away.

Okay, so then what? And for now? Listen, I’m too much the sandy loam to hold root for long. When the winds blow, I don’t move. But when they don’t, you surely will. – Do you know that feeling as you drive down the street to your grandparent’s house when it’s been all year since you’ve seen them? What is that? The world is trembling then. It’s a combination of contradicting emotions too intense and convoluted to be adequately expressed.

So then what? Even when they greet you at the door, it’s trembling. When they show you to your room, it’s trembling,but later it’s not. When does it go away? When does the world start to stand still–and flow? It’s hard to know, but you wish you could stay when it comes time to go.

And for now? I’m driving down the street to your house–well, I was, but I trembled. I jumped out two blocks early, and I’m standing at the stop sign, and the world is trembling and nothing about standing here will make it go away. I know this, but I cannot advance.

When the winds blow, I don’t move. But when they don’t, you surely will.


Under my back, stuffed
into my aching arch, it warms
thanks to my starved initiative
and makes a gap so it can fill.
And then, fully warmed
raised, trembled, to my lips:
a pillow, not a lover:
A lover on whom I can rest
my sloshing head.

I’m Sorry, Here.

I really am.

I am the camel, running,
stumbling, terrying
toward the gate,
the eye.


You are the water bending
beneath the water-bug’s feet.

We’re both waiting for the signal;
Is it the one that never comes?

There is mystery in your very breathing.


And that bitter seed
which promises the sweetest fruit
only if I go on holding it in my mouth
And swear never to plant it.

My God saw me once,

throwing a rock,

and she laughed.

Crunchy, or, a few silly haikus

Lying on the couch:
My beautiful Diana
Shrinking when I touch

Arms around my waist
We’re flying through the jungle
Trees are made of steel

Breath tickles my ear
She is rustling in the sheets
Dreams I’ll never hear

Brushed against your hand
Grunted an apology
Once I would have held

Leaves are growing dark
The top ones still are glowing
"Let’s go find some sun"

%d bloggers like this: