Monday, September 10, 2012


We must endure our thoughts all night, until
The bright obvious stands motionless in cold.

-Wallace Stevens

Swan Songs

we shared this bed like teenagers
mincing intimacy, you reached for it within me
as if it needed convincing.
in love with a chemical, it bound us
(i was scared it was only that)

swindled our swan songs like elbow room on a flight
i know you didn't care if i made it home that night
swept all my emptiness that just became un-kept
hid under the pillow, you left while i slept.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

first post this year..

when i was right next to you i missed you
in that borrowed bed
    we hand in hand in
paper
in love with words that i wringed-out and weaved,
what a relief to unwrap the wrong-doings you kept.
now it's 7am, and i havent slept
i'm glad you don't still sleep on a cot.
i reminisce about every time we fought.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

excerpt from 'the babysitters' by sylvia plath

The bold gulls dove as if they owned it all.
We picked up sticks of driftwood and beat them off,
Then stepped down the steep beach shelf and into the water.
We kicked and talked. The thick salt kept us up.
I see us floating there yet, inseparable—two cork dolls.
What keyhole have we slipped through, what door has shut?
The shadows of the grasses inched round like hands of a clock,
And from our opposite continents we wave and call.
Everything has happened.

you don't here

in these fields
you don't hear
traffic or the
lights just that
tingle
of wind
to be felt after
its gone

Friday, September 23, 2011

swindled our swan songs like elbow room on a flight
i know you didn't care if i made it home that night
swept all my emptiness that just became un-kept
hiding under my pillow, leaving while you slept
hey. i didn't forget this.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

stinkybutt

i want to be held by you
by your voice your hands your face lips mouth ears you hear
when i talk not like someone
waiting to speak
i enjoy you
your words,
your taste.
i miss you and it stings.

not writing

i promised you a poem
expecting to pull that slime out of me
like puking on pages
but i can't find the words