His heart had been cleaved irreparably when I met him ( Read more... )

I am
slip slidin’ on sidewalks
beneath beds of wet paint.
My moccassins channel Fred Astaire
to tip tap-- break down! the Jackson Polluck,
to propel painterly poetics--
double-time
(rewind)
he is
Poseidon
in his oceans subsiding
& my heart refusing to downshift.

-Response to “Cupid after Caravaggio” by Vik Muniz ( Read more... )

1 ( Read more... )

A passenger plane gathers speed above Dunbar, jets sounding like a mechanical manatee, like two hundred people sighing with the pleasure of escaping this heat, this ennui, this brand of stasis. Outside, the hum of a power plant challenging its chain link cage with toxic yellow light, semis shifting gears to leave town, trains rumbling urgently away ( Read more... )

Night ( Read more... )

Harlequin Heroine ( Read more... )

Finnish Skinny Dipping ( Read more... )

i take frantic notes on shreds of pastel yellow sticky notes, trying to gather my thoughts, to document moments seemingly too surreal to forget...and yet my memory consistently purges itself of even the most essential details as the front end is presented with fresher images, feelings of pleasure ( Read more... )

Sometimes I wish I knew enough about the other realms of existence, the parrallel universes, the ways in which it's possible to transcend this body and the systems of correct social interactions that come with our lives within the school system, the political systems, our jobs and reputations within the community. i wish i could "transcend the ( Read more... )