Poetry is useless
i dive into a poem naked to find clothes too loose to fit; a dead grandfather’s batik shirt buttoned down a sun burnt chest […]
BAIAE
Noon estranged all living things, Taking black heaven; Sucking in the sea, the (seven) hills. We trek. Irretrievables progressed, are away. We edge off The rim of everything; the sea stasis attends A gull’s catechisms, face wrapped in Evening wedding veils That genuflec
Mother Tongue
flight after flight after flightmy tongue becomes adjustedto the different cultures: taste,language, kisses; but it mistrusts me the third time I leave home. “What is your mother tongue?”mine earnestly protests. pulled in one, two, three directions, it seems to cry: I have none.an orphaned tongu
Tilting Nights
Sometimes she would stand, hands folded, resting her gaze by the window. She would wait until lights fell flat for laughter on the streets for bodies following faces as words trail slowing feet. She watched the tiny worlds between floating hands as fingers parted ways and how sometimes rain grazed o
Mal de Barquement
Wow, I’ve been on the river a lot. Still rocking despite dry land for hours. Back and forth, back and forth and forth and round and up and up. Up to where? I’m greeted by three towering silhouettes. They leer, gnash their teeth and creep their fingers around my face until their fingertips taste
Eden
alone with each other in a rain cloud drops fall in random formations like stars as they drift in the unarranged heaven so near to us – the empty weight of space bends everything towards you as you smile and mention my eyes i don’t remember yours so look again caught in a fragmented atomic [&hel
Dirty Laundry
Decode the skin cells on the back of the bras you hooked and unhooked Monday to Friday excavate a jumper and seduce a coil of hair from wool like unstitching a tapestry – notice how this is a small history of things that stopped you from being naked There is a hidden knowledge in veiling […
We Only Want The World To Live
It’s true WE ONLY WANT THE WORLD TO LIVE But its pirouette proves endless. And once again the floor finds me fallible. It is strange […]
Migraines
Routine. It starts with the little finger. Nibble, And another. Its small serrated teeth confuse you at first – Maybe not again. Its rugged tongue is insistent Chaw at my sphinx nose Claws sink into flesh I now know – no speaking Unless you want words that sound like blood Eroding cliff,