See with me ( Read more... )

When night comes
to my home,
I feel its quiet humidity
gather around my neck
like a lustful breath.

I tip my glass,
turn off the lamp,
and think of you
as I brush my teeth,
your bare feet blessing
a bed of algae
and green river rock.

Remembering this,
it's not like imagining,
but these are not my memories.
I don't know where they came from.

Are you a spider
or are you a moth?
Do you have teeth
or do you have scales?
Do you have poisons?
Wings?
Hey,
are you scary
or are you ugly?
Come closer
I can't see.

Imagine a person
with too much hair
200 pounds of hair
more dead than alive
still alive, though

All these anxious radio songs:
I need you baby
I can't live without you
Oh oh oh
and so on

I do need her
it's true
but

my car needs repairs
the sooner the better
the leaves need raking
and I could use a shave.
she'll still be there in the morning
most likely

An orange
like the Earth
bright and bitter
on its surface
filled with water
and exhilaration

soldiers give these gifts to children
winters to all
and I to you

it is an easy thing
to misunderstand

Outside at last ( Read more... )

the smoke from my mouth
mixes with the rich, dark smoke
of the fallen leaves

Prickling soft
Like blades of grass
Or small, cold drops
From clouds aloft
The memory of your blushing cheeks
I pine as you'd been gone for weeks
Though just this morning we did kiss
A cautious peck, and you were off.

We played a game that children play
to pass the time
blindfolded
gave each other bits of this
or that and tried to guess

what did she slip into my mouth
that night

a sweet grape
chocolate cake
cherry juice
a shark's tooth