Sunday, April 18, 2010

I Expected to Free You

Richard said I could

release you,

he said
Rip seeds
from the beaks
of the two
Taxidermied Emberizidae
perched on the windowsill-
Independent Canyon Cocked
to the door
Desperate Abert,
to him-
Droned expectation after dark
Nestling in my dried blood, close
pleading monogamy to you, dead
Richard said
Familiarity’s extinct, but Derrick isn’t.
He floats over farm fields in Baja
You incubate depressions in Sinaloa
Singing the same song,
Singing the same song
In pairs
Or alone.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Underpaid

The Herd Bellows!
The mistake note
plucked, Weeping,
weeping-
Applause leak
Quiet
Quiet
Strings and drinks slurring
Meeting tapping shaking Hands
Dancing-
shaking shaking shaking
Mistake, he cries! The deaf know
No different dance
He beats
Splintered palms
into black cheeks
3/4 time
no mistakes,
no mistakes
he heard


Sunday, March 28, 2010

A Piece for a Soloist and Orchestra


the low screeching of dawn
orchestrates timid footsteps

it’s the time of year when the weeping violins shed skins and emerge as brass but they (still) tell us to hide our children,
so we do

and they reproduce

despite our efforts
nothing is fixed

I escaped early-

mute and standing straight, carrying bags- oh,

ugly people, ugly streets,
ugly thoughts, ugly me
it’s dreadful

desiring
hollow contentment to pierce this thinning scalp

but what else?


it’s cracking at noon and the music’s
depleting

open mouths open eyes inhale
debris in C minor
expecting?

(exhausted fulfillment)
evening
the exposed and inconsolable mothers marvel the translucence of time while their babies claw at endometrium and jab their uteri
alone-
just
Dying

to get out

and scream

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Saturday, February 20, 2010

I really just don't want to lose this when my computer dies

“Anabel. Listen to me right now because I’m not just saying this because of how much I love and adore you. There is no reason for him not to love you. You are one of the most visually stunning girls I have ever seen. Sometimes I look at you and find it hard to stop. As if that’s not enough, you also happen to be, if possible, even more gorgeous on the inside. You care, genuinely, about people. You listen. You make everyone feel special, you make everyone see things in a different way. You change the life of everyone around you for the better. You made me better. You’re the one person on this Earth who deserves what you want. There’s no reason or justification for his actions towards you, but it certainly isn’t anything you could control. Any boy given even a moment of your attention must feel kissed with the grace of God. I think you deserve to give others your love. He has his own issues. Never let him cause you to think you’re any less of the (for the lack of a better term) angel that you are.”

Friday, February 19, 2010

Realizations from the Grave

I’ve never touched death but his vigilance exposes-
Beckoning from sterile, strange,
Expectant poses-
Stored in cryogenic vessels, his chants locked and forgone

The man who extinguished the exaltation of dawn

Dismissed, deemed “misplaced” admiration
He ignites my murderous temptation

Ecstasy, a fragile myth, buried on his behalf
“Discontentment” “Discernment”: my imposing epitaph-

Awaiting, awaiting, awaiting
(Escaping, Escaping, escaping)

Misery, trapped in gas
Shatters my depleting hourglass
Bullshit


A coat of black hair huffing somewhat rhythmically (thinking it will get me wet) in my ear –
The Suitor: an over-weight, undesired troll breathing in,
out, tasting 3 day old, left-on-his-ashy-counter-beer,
thinking his hands have any place within
my sterile lips
I want to get out fast.
But he pleads, so nicely as his oily fingers marinate my hips
“Good for child bearing” and his filth, disgustingly endearing, so I see how long he can last
By the end I’m screaming, in-love, this is my new fuck buddy, it’s been too long-
Next to me my prince dreams (mouth open, drooling) while I’m crowning him,
mimicking the tremors of his breath, admiring his godly schlong,
perfecting, perfecting: just a nose-plug, just a trim.
However,
The hours dishevel my existence into an anonymous, “Who?”
Yellow teeth, wretched breath: “Loving someone can’t make someone love you.”
When you leave
(treading a measure of some unrequited testament
clenched amidst vibrating ribs and incongruous pleas)
When you leave
(expecting some emotive villanelle, and a key)
I leave too,

Divided Twins, we speak quietly,
sleep separately
when you leave,
I leave too
humming in sequence to
what
you
knew
before
(an amalgamation of fantastical contentment,
youth, artistic resentment)

Evaporated

When you left

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Mild Autism

Your room smells like cats.

"I would kill
to have people
Adore me
As they do you-
They're
fucking
Crawling"

Your room smells like cats,
Eric,
But you don't have cats

"I understand,
it is a burden"

I hate it

it isn't true

Rubbing your hands against your pants never feels the same
As life

Yeah

J'habite dans ma tete parce que je suis trop fragile
A vivre dans mon coeur
[I reside in my head because I am too fragile
To live in my heart]

I know.
I want to race you down to the Steamship Authority
And take off my shoes
And feel the dirty pavement blistering my feet
I want to talk to you about why I left you
I needed to know myself,
Without you interfering

I want to kiss you
I want you to accept me
I want to tear away the
Sullen mask you've been wearing
and throw it in the ocean
At the Knob, where you gave me
the ring that I haven't taken off
yet

I want to wake up tangled in your 6'1'' limbs
And ask you what you dreamt about
I want to make homefries in your kitchen
And trade back massages for blowjobs

I want to sit around all day
getting high and eating and napping
I want to talk about puppies and school
And being free

I want to hold you and scratch your head
And tell you how much I love you
And how pretty I think you are,

Tim
Allston, MA

A comical dancer
I watch the Jester
Circle
Your teetering form
Oh, we're toppling over
Piling on top of each other
Praying our bones turn to rock
And carry our flesh through the night
Eyes staring, bitter, judging,
A leap of faith into his arms
Lugging you out of the door
It's a beautiful night
the cars are empty and
the asphalt's littered with spit.

Tell me it's almost over

The words circling in my mouth,
I roll my head down
Chocking on vowels, I shriek,

Please Jester,
I'd like a show,
Will you dance for me?
King Lear


Insecure of aging spots
They clung together, pawed at limbs
Nothing can defeat me now,
Conjoined at ankles and at wrists
A dense web of last year,
The year before,
The year before
We are kings! We are queens!
Nothing can come between-
Us
I Dare You
Lawyers,
Saws,
and Doctors
Ruin us, if you see fit
We'll snarl and bite and cringe and die
But we won't destroy you
Our manners are far too exquisite.
3

"Stop being a drama queen!"
Shrieks the bisexual thespian
From under the covers
Of his humble apartment
Upper West in
Manhattan

I let your
mandible twist
for a while,
quiet
desperate
While I'm strapping up
and jeering you
to continue,
but
I'm feeling stale
with existence
lately

Undress

I watch,
as
Change passes swiftly through your nostrils
And wafts in again through your mouth;
I hold my knees laughing and dancing
Because that's all I know how to do anymore
Without remembering
Love

So it goes

I'll shove it
Down
Your throat
Later, when
I'm stiff in bed
Rubbing his back
Sucking his dick
While you're apologizing
And complimenting my breasts


The filthiest boy in the city
the clocks are levitating

everything is quit

we sift through

reeds and words,
ash,

alone


aliens, regret,

money
love

vows


everything begins

the view from Key Biscayne
begs forgiveness

we do, each
other



until I dishevel time's rotation once more
and ask you the hour
Untitled

the nativity sets are sinking,
tempting and jovial in their descent
tender and white palms dripping,
chanting cryonic carols
repeating,
your epitaph
repeating
Hail Mary,
Our Father
treading
stiff and numb
Christ the King Parish,
seized

baby Jesus is plugged into a twenty-foot long extension chord
curling
from the church shed
smug amongst kneeling Kings
and cradling Mary
almost buried