Sunday, February 28, 2010

Symmetry

fractures
grotesque silhouette
balance
she, draped in light ochre-cloud, names you a pest
drops dead milk, rot, on the floor in preparation for
decay-hungry children
anise alcohol eyes: cannibal craving distill in cavities

we should play the dependence game, but
only if logic will cut the thread
you can drown the virgin in the bath
and we'll give her back to earth

Daydream haze
silent film Sunday morning
cream stilettos baking
cherry scones
he always
burned with the trash

then I watched closed eyes, weak
heart pushing through neck
and dove beneath his ribcage
around amaryllis remains

Thursday, February 11, 2010

late night

I'm hiding in stars

Black velvet obsession
artificial waterfall
unzip and slip
scalds, tastes like too much salt--
bile memories

forgotten before clean
baby doll vanity

I need a friend
or maybe a lover
one to worry then
close the door

Pray for future amnesia
the past is headlights;
too cold to cover

You're buried in snow
and I'll not attempt a rescue.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Whole Grain Seagulls

Squawking stomach--
the outline of ribs is
beautiful, pushing against
the surface.

They flap about,
fruitlessly,
beating wings against the walls.
Pecking holes in lining.

But we're too stubborn
to succumb.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

hasn't earned a title.

Silver rope roses
draped
down
back
burn against fire surface.
Needle lips burrow beneath bones--
push and explore
write in ruby photos.
Seek validation-- shutter sigh
forgetting sleep-uttered words.

Actresses and models.

She is
anemone stare in lens
anticipation--
contrapposto
melting to meet demands.
Ink scars canvas
requesting analysis--
exploration. Fingertips along the seams
electrify capillaries.
Explode.
He whispers--
burgundy taffeta becomes a blanket.

in print baby skin
born

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Recipe

Nectar hair
nibble upon cheek
she is "ai"
senza.
Anemic.
Droplet hem
Mattress is a creek
Bodies, columns,
aligning aisles.
She lingers, the grocery
a synesthesia
maelstrom
purple
He is phlebotomist--
insert the needle,
hunting hemoglobin.
Or cytoplasm lotion texture.

We are the products of fifteen lies.
Opaquest.

(Note: A class assignment to write a "list poem" using twenty assigned words. Of course, I took some liberties... )