R.E.M. cds and library books
stacked 3 and 4 high and
mis-matched throw pillows;
honestly, sometimes life
is like that.

Dreams of my Father

you beat me to death with a baseball bat
outside on the cold pavement.
I braced my small body, curled inside myself
and waited, in my blood, to die.

this one, you told me with pale and patchy skin
that hell consumes.

you were dying in the shower slowly;
the water didn't stop assaulting your frail body -
we both cried.
mercy was waking up.

the fire was eating up the wood around our life,
windows were spitting glass outside and 
my eardrums burst to spite the noise.
the heat severed the power lines across the street,
electricity danced violently against the pavement
when I first knew your body was devoured.

this one is the one that lives.
there is no mercy.

small prayer: 8/15

let it always be the image of
one hundred cattle on
rolling hills;

let me talk about marriage
either to you
or to soil
or to humanity,
but let it be sincere.

quickie

i suppose life isn't defined
by my lines
and carbon curves.

what's next?

4/4*

part one:
i do things i hate.
like, apologize profusely.
a stream of self-hating vomit
continuously getting caught between my teeth
and sticking in my throat.
how pathetic, you know?
day dream about New Mexico -
thinking about the sand and
the mighty saguaro,
(jesus christ! it's pronounced
suh-wah-roe)
and the sky that just might make me forget.
i remember your goddamned face
and
i'm sorry,
it makes me empty.
my terracotta skin breaks apart
and i decompose
in this life i've created in your absence.
nothing fills me up
except the occasional too-much-whiskey
and that just makes me thirst for your
hands.

part two:
the summer eats up my soul like a peach -
as i drip down her arm and from her mouth,
my nectar leaves a reminder;
it used to be simple.

part three:
we forget.
and yes, i use "we".

from June 22

i have a restless heart right now.
i have a healing tattoo right now.
i have voids in my life and lots of dirty clothes.
i occasionally have serious chest pains,
i have unfathomable doubts about myself and really bad skin.
i have two cats, one who loves me like i'm the only human on earth.
that's a nice thing to have.
i have feet that are spreading with age,
i have tits that aren't.
i have a sky,
and some ground
and some blood.
i have friends who are moving on,
i have some friends who aren't.

i know i'm not.

3/4

i wash in the trough meant for swine
but i am the pig and
he is me.
i let the water touch my skin,
washing my filth to the ground -
starting on my sun ward face and
paving paths on my chest
in between my tits;
cooling the heat between my legs.
finally, water at my feet
pooling in mud around
my toes.
i stand tall,
naked,
near the barn.