Saturday, May 30, 2009


Something like remembering
some Autumn spent in bed
flustered from the trees

this is your skin
as an absence
your body as some reminder
of days of breath as fog

I can't touch anything
brushing the streetlamp
like your phantom shoulder

Please re-materialize
before me
before Autumn

That season as
a sickening
haunting event
where every sensation
of the body
(what I could say
of those shoulder blades)
of the ephemeral 
chill like a singular
skein swallowing me

I'll hope you're more
material than this

Friday, May 29, 2009

River Vs.

I am not in the river
I have become the river

Your country is dry
I've never known so many bones
your trees and your homes
too much skin
I am showing
I feel like breaking
a moment after cracking

My rivers
we flow in perpetual transience
and if we branch off in a
million directions to head
home to the ocean
the ocean, the origin
then we know we're alive, right?

I've never not known
the difference between
the living and the dead

Your days turn prematurely to ash
you're afraid of the fires
I've spent my whole life
building fires and breathing
in water
My whole life never considering
my days built on bone
my fluidity, temporary
my origin, illusory

In your arid expanse
in your heat
in your bones

I bring the rivers
I am surrounded by the 
waters of my birth

Water in which I 
cannot guarantee life
I've never felt it so dead

Wednesday, May 27, 2009


You are important
I wrote you the most
terrifying poem I could

Writing to you
attempting to break your skin
breaking my heart

It was the only thing I could do
foolishly hoping my texuality
could compensate for body

I'd have left you my ashes
if it would mean something

I can't even satisfy
my longing for you
through these multitudinous
attempts at imprisoning you
in poetry

There is nothing
that will do the trick

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

An Apology for the Mess

From 30,000 feet
the sight of some river
could only make me cry

In dirt and desert growth
the memory of the river
encased me in the persistence
of water fluidity as
some sacred measure
though all I care for
are your limbs painfully
absent at the sight of the
familiar landscape

You cherish some stability
I can't squeeze myself 
into your stoicism
as though the absence
of tears signifies 
a timidity of ache

I haven't hurt as much
looking down at the
gridwork of lights knowing
my body is hurdling 
thousands of miles away
from yours at a speed
that horrifies me

This fact makes me 
want to vomit

How can the Hudson hold me
like it once could when 
it is the desert that broke 
my body and is crying
out for my presence 
to continue with the breaking

The instability is the only part
that makes sense
in the wake of this

To stand as some solid mass
interrupts my transience
my capacity to curl tighter
around your ghost

Please forgive me
I am a series of implosions
There is nothing as foul
as the gnawing
blistering ache
of the body propelling 
at top speed
from the only other body
it cares to acknowledge

you are the only 
other body

Saturday, May 23, 2009


To Winnifred
who fell from four stories

I have not yet ventured
to inquire about
the status of your uncertain death

You are sprawled on the ground
and I can only interpret
this mishap as an extension
of my own body
prone to leaning much too far
out the window addressing
the altitude of what sort
of injury I could inflict
upon my body

I'll let you lay there
a little longer to contemplate
your leap before I muster
up the courage to reclaim you
and reclaim my title 
as your owner and caregiver

Do you want to be 'found'?
Or would you prefer to 
return to earth and leave
my meddling human hand
out of your perfectly 
decorative existence?

I can only speculate
and read too much
into my poor
suicide plant

Thursday, May 21, 2009


In the dark we
fried up the bacon
and discussed our egg
options like autopsy

boiled or scrambled or 
not at all I spill 
the juice
"Goddamn it all!"
You yell and I'm out
on the porch watching
the sun come up
waiting for the year
to end

Weather Bodied

You leave me dry
with a desert mind
with your desert body

I ought to embalm
(interpolate moisture)

You bring the dirt
I'll combat with the rain

Do we speak of our motives
as such opposing forces
inciting disaster?

I can flood your desert town
you'll dry the Hudson

We can't contain our
expression we touch
more than just the 

This country won't be
the same after
we're done with each other

Though it can never be over
as I'll be planting cacti at
Coney Island for years to come
you'll expand the Kidney-shaped
pool for a new desert ocean

I covet the cracks
now burned in my skin
I support your ambition
your drowning