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Category Archives: poetry

Juicy

Photo credit here.

Photo credit here.

Rubber bounce
Chamois peach
Speckle pillow
Foremilk china, bone
Globe succulence
Yeast dough swell

This is the cheek of the red-haired boy.

I think I have to bite it.

Swamp Lullabye

Photo courtesy of Paul Mannix

Photo courtesy of Paul Mannix

I slumber in my swamp sublime
The warm and fetid backwash clime
Undulates in fog and slime
Smothering my senses

Black flies adore my lower lip
Their eggs in glistening clusters slip
From hairy wombs about to rip
Like overripe papayas

A swollen leech calls, “Hush, my dear”
In foreplay nibbling on my ear
Seductively to still my fear
While gorging on my blood

Steadily the quicksand grows
With smacking lips she sucks my toes
One by one A mother knows
How to swathe a baby

Awakening

Image courtesy of (matt) at flickr

Image courtesy of (matt) at flickr

Out of a dream like coming to the surface after plummeting to the depths of the black water of slumber. Slowing growing lighter and lighter until consciousness comes like breaking to the surface and back into the light.

Untitled: February, 1987

Photo courtesy of John Liu

Photo courtesy of John Liu

I seem to think a lot these days

To cry and pain and pain and bleed

Then joy, bright champagne bubble mirth

Blows golden notes of dandelion seed

Solemnity of captives freed

A mind reduced to motion

All Nighter

Photo courtesy of Aaron Stidwell
Photo courtesy of Aaron Stidwell

Razor stubble litters his humid morning face

Snowflake flecks invade those black-knight locks

Muddy coffee vapors collide with my perfume

And curdle my awe

His gritty gaze slumbers

Even as it lumbers

To greet me

Demigod,
Can this be you?

Thinking in Pictures

Thinking in Pictures

The subway hums me tiredly into the city
At first it refuses
I know to bribe the turnstile for the magic words
OPEN SESAME
The doors grudge open

A fresh bird splat
A drying froth of tubercular sputum
The foamy casing of the spittle bug
All this and more performed in the thick Plexiglas window
By the unknowing artist and his stealthy Zippo

Green as sick and left for dead after a long drunk
Broken glass on a trash-strewn hill
Cries out as rocks must
Murmurating brilliance at the strike of a glancing beam
Spring is too young to cover this nakedness

Clamors for love and validation
Crowd the breath out of every surface
Spray-painted, etched, burned, gouged
Whatever it takes
To starve at our eyes

See me
Love me
Tell me I Am

We present with words

Are we so different?

If the Shoe Fits

If the Shoe Fits

If the shoes fits, smell it
You know you will

Do it

Grated Parmesan
Black truffle?

Inhale it

Dismiss the watchmen
Close your eyes

Embrace it

Children, take out your pencils
Draw lines to match

sweaty shoes                                          gin
stinkbugs                                                culantro
loaded diapers                                       oxtail soup
bananas                                                  fish sauce
Scotch tape                                             sex (says Barbara)
kids’ dirty undies                                  Parmesan
armpits                                                   kimchi

Stop playing dumb
You get it

Admit it

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