winter bathes

drops of red wine
dribble down my chin
into the bath
to stew lukewarm
with hairs, dirt,
body.

the television advertises
a man who can control
the temperature of his body
with his mind --
how indivisible.

i pick a blemish at my jaw.
there is no containment
everything fades
nothing
holds
fast

i scrape at myself
and watch
the vapors rise.

In My Rain-Soaked Hat

Time to collect my reckless ambitions and throw them in a pot to simmer and stew. Chop up my stares into glances. My lonely afternoons. How the light traces the corniced borders of my room, cut into squares by single-pane windows, headlights chasing themselves along the wall. Outside this box is a real cage, certified bridge jumpers, mad mutterers, and whoever stole my bike. I can pick some orange flowers, crêpe-y and translucent as an old Halloween decoration left to rot away in the wet, I can carry them with me as I walk to sleep. Though I won’t remember until after I miss them that I once had anything. I am so behind on gossip. The cup of tea is clammy in my grip, the water grown cold. Intermittent snatches of a popular song reach my red-rimmed ears, and mermaid-like I’m borne to crest and sink in time.

Gratitude

Hand-cut flowers
of dry autumnal blazes
are perched on their branches
like leaves. The sun shimmers through them.
They sit on a chair in her now-vacant room.

It was raining on Sunday,
the clouds spilled
into the monochrome bay,
and I sat at my window watching
birds play – tumbling as though
into your gentle arms;
the way she did when you placed
a hand-cut bouquet on the chair
in her room with a view of the bay.

As your uncle played a melody, unconsciously
you hummed in tune, never off-key;
and she listened softly to the loving
bodies that sent the slightest tremors
through the air;
and a tear spilled down her loving cheek,
sharing in peaceful gratitude.

It Lingers

You got attached. Like an orchid
Looped around a tepid swamp long, except –
We might both be, flesh-like
And alluring, hosts to our own
Parasitic proclivities.

You wanted more. A taste of pineapple
Now lingers, stuck to the mouths
That shared vast slipping vengeances.

You said hello yesterday;
But not to me, not to me.

Suspense

Catch me hold me don't let go
I have 500 ft to fall
and the relief I cast
on this sheer wall
calls too much notice to
my singular state.

If a man draws near, level
with him. He will reach down
a hand, gloved with a grin---
You take it, why is it offered
while his hobnail boot bears
down on your hand
with muted force

I yanked the brake; they
know me here.
And barely,
barely can you grasp.

Shake the Baby

trebling wail not unlike the plaintive, guilty yowl
of the alley cat - those hands must work hard
day in day out of the darkness there comes light

i can't imagine
that what i do imagine
has true bearing on the matter;
what is the matter?

averting the light from those abalone-blue sleepy peepers
luminous with misplaced rage, the sort that bank tellers
must receive when the stock is down;
what if i shine this light in those tender bulging eyes
pupils contracted in cruelty; furious resentful won't forgive
me tomorrow; in self-constructed sorrow.

Shake the baby: see what falls out.
hard work to learn that hard work doesn't necessarily
accomplish what is greater than its constituent parts.

As Reflected in Your Eyes

and how does the moon,
with the force of a reflected gaze,
shine brighter than the stars
to behold the day?

clouds like strobe lights
cast dancing, disorienting effects
across the already indeterminate
surface of the bay

the liquid tension carves
up into withering peaks
that rise languidly
like the encompassing hills
but crash chaotically
like the encircling
cults of personality
that careen through our
quotidian days

and how your eyes do
capture all this,
to shine brighter than
the sunlight.

A Perplexing Personality

What a puzzle
to suss out –
a thousand targets,
vague in their multitude,
that swarm around you
like termites as you probe
the carefully constructed
pillars and tunnels,
my secrets which suggested
themselves to you.

Stir up the answers, sure –
but to catch even one
would be a feat
beyond your evolution.

A corpus of confusion
may disclose itself,
expelled like soggy ectoplasm.
Put your arms around me.
Our fingers will not lace,
but together we can contemplate
the nonplussed facets
of my psychiatry.

Elysian, Altered

Taken by the trees, she was

A scion of the underbrush,

And whirring blurs

Of sundrenched wings

Sank toward the sky

So lazily,

In syncopated entropy.

And tangled hair

Snagged golden burrs

Sweetly scented in the warmth,

And they did cling to mountain child

To be plucked off with absent smile

And left among the redwood towers,

Ivy vines and wild flowers.

For flight she took

Past tree and briar

Through sun-baked field

And veiled ravine,

Till she reached shore,

Those ragged miles

Carved by waves tempestuous,

With rocky cove and bleached tide pool,

And sand fell into undertow,

Left only clouds to pass the time;

And surf stripped bare

Her hidden feet

That strove to grasp the ceding ground.

Taken with the waves she was,

And lazy floated toward the sky

To meet the lonely albatross

And join him in his eddied flight;

A scion of the heart to be,

How could she chase green reverie,

To dance along, on sunlit feet,

The brushwood kind,

The height of trees.

Gemini Rising

We followed the sun;
Let’s stalk the starry nights
above the wet ground.

The light in your grin,
gleaming mischievous,
is surely my guide.

Layered deep and near,
those pinpoints carve windmills
as we crane our necks upwards.
Spin spin dizzy light -
Carve the space,
Relative to nothing,
Except for us.

It Pours Ever Forth

everything i put in my mouth feels impossibly dry
even my tongue
crushing up against the roof of my mouth.

slowly my glands must dilate
for i compact
food into a globular package
delivered lengua fresca

a little joke can release
torrents, abashed
jubilant sobs unhinged by the mysteries of secretion
things the soul cannot keep

not everything i put in my mouth
will sustain me
sustenance comes rare these days
oh! how the hunger aches and roars!
it is acid that pours from me
wretched through watery eyes
survey with bitter pleasure
the ripest fruit of my stagnation
at last, to be matched.

Hollow Depths

oceans wash over me
murky green with marine dust
float down
sink down arms trailing
infinite blue diaphonous
shafts and hollows
  light the symbols
of my decay:
  my body - heavy and full
  the day - shrinking pupils everywhere
  water - cross under the waves
  debris -detritus -desire -despair
hollows between even the molecules
insipid holes
to allow space between.
Waves seek the high
my hollows are the low
my arms caress detritus and dust alike
my selfish form cradled by the
ascending bottom
the endless illusion of color
in intimate deception of the heart

Watching

Old Future Hopes

Nesting

Boudoir branches
Avian dreams
Back and forth
between green leaves.

Eat the gnats
that mill in swarms.
Tiny swirling circles.

Cry my cry
though know
one comes
Can birds sigh?
If so, I'm one.

Alright Altar Boy

Alright, Altar Boy
of the worst
sacramental misgivings
shibboleth fire
transvestite kisses

Nibble on
a loaf of bread
as you kneel
on the curb

How to invoke the gods:

Tentacle dreams of untold night
the notches of my spine collide
the muscles tighten cross my back
the tingling speaks to what I lack
Flaming flame of seaborn spheres
the struggling fish assuage my fears
the tightening net the struggle binds
the black-eyed bruises
the slack-jawed wife.
Oft told, the wants that starve the needs
The beaten traveler strikes his steed
The craggy sailor cuts his beard
The captive swimmer swimming far
From aft to end to fore to yaw
And still the lure accepts the stock
the hook yearns for a fleshy jaw
the traveling sailor shoots his wife,
the cephalopodan stiff, the night

I cut my hand
on a piece of glass
from a broken
wine bottle that you smashed
We tried to drink
what remained inside
behind the old construction site
The cops walked past
but never guessed
the violence of
that night
When you took my
hand and didn't
notice
the blood in the
street's cold light

The Philosopher

I bet she's a lot of fun naked.

She has a way with money
She never seems to care
Put me in your wallet, dear
So I fall out
along with change
loose receipts
lint
Put my on your bookshelf
The one in your office
with the rams head busts
carved out of stone

Atmospheric Perspective

Unrelenting gusts
leaf through my hair
earth presses against
the weight of my step

I cry, I cry
through a
silver sieve
(plated)
Drip drops
the wine:
Tannic victory

Atmospheric phases
of mist
twinged bright
across the lanterns
tacked fog
to fog
to eyelids,
misty cheeks,
perspective

Lady of the rocks
thy immaculate cave
offers no shelter.

Distant figures
forms
compose themselves
for you
a gust reveals
a calm
conceals