Wednesday, May 24, 2017



The color of sunshine and fear and cowardice
 Disease and pallor and failure
 The color you chose to send
 Well Over 40 miles per hour
Daring death to outwit your entitlement
The color you chose for lies
The color of your teeth set on the edge
of her pink clit
 In her beige living room
 Where you told me you still loved me
And to wait patiently
 through your bullshit lying facade
So you could be satisfied
while those who love you starve
 The color she doesn't know yet
 But will be written in her bones
 By the time she is lucky enough to leave you
Liar and cheat
 Sucking the life from people who
know how to love and to give 
Yellow fucking heartworm
Burrowing in like the plague that you are
 Yellow like the raincoat on a child
 When you let down your guard
 Yellow like jaundice in my eyes
when I can't see you clearly
 Yellow like fever and disgust when I do
 Yellow like the hospital bracelet
on my baby
as I sit in a room alone
and the polka dots on her panties
when she blows you in a room
where she used to fuck the man she still lives with
Yellow like the lightbulb that
flashes above my head
When it finally dawns on me
How willing you have always been
 to steal what you're too goddamn lazy to earn.
 Yellow like the caution sign
Yellow like the street lamp
that should have taken your life 
Yellow like the citation, incarceration
you earned but never got
 Yellow like the fading bruises
I wish would last forever
 so you know what the damage you've done
 to everyone you have sucked dry
 Yellow is the color of my love-hate-disgust
 and the final fucking end of you.
 Yellow is religion
 Yellow is relief
Yellow is goodbye
and good riddance.
 Yellow is the pus that oozes from your soul.
 Yellow is no longer a thing I give a fuck about.
 Yellow is my freedom.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Saint Nurse

Saint Nurse 

I am
I can be 
both grateful and bitter 
For the tenderness you receive 
I would never leave you alone, and I
 weep and shake with thanks that the world didn't leave you that way

Maybe I am a selfish lover after all 
To feel snide about a good person, doing a good thing. 

But I, lover, 
I would swallow your pain like the shattered glass of your windshield 
I would try on your black bruises and host your fractures 
Like parasites beneath my skin 

And maybe, maybe this is my penance 
For the last time someone I loved 
Wrapped whiskey and steel around the trunk of a tree 
Was plucked, flesh and splintered bone,
one barb at a time, 
from a wire fence 

And forty seven days later 
when she finally remembered my name 
and I cried with relief 
I kissed her boyfriend, who never could turn his neck quite around after it broke that night with her. 

And in the darkest nights 
of rehab and blame 
I took what didn't belong
 to her anymore 
But it didn't belong to me.  

And some years later 
Her little girl brain
Fucked the father of my child 
and fell in love. 

And maybe I have to pay in what I took out

When you're strong enough 
to slip the fingers 
On your unbroken hand
Into her wet and patient pussy

Because after all, she was there 
She took you to the hospital 
She took you into her home. 
She showed for all of the things I couldn't 
And she was nice enough. 


Only my imagination can speak her name
While she tenderly lifts you out of bed
By obligation or by bond
By love or simple kindness
By the threat to my stars
She dresses the wounds of my love 
And I know she is real
And kind 
And I have never suffered for someone's kindness 
I have suffered betrayal, dishonest mouths 
Angry hands, denial and abandonment
But I have never suffered kindness. 
And who am I to suffer that you suffer less? 
What great hatred for my pettiness grows
Cold lumps inside my stomach 

Love curdled into sour milk

Friday, February 17, 2017


Come with me to a place where time is lost
And there is no longer
The deathshead hawk moth
Lodged in the throat of my lover
Coffee cups drip with ecstatic love
Percolating between my knees
A surrealist daydream when you
Can't be fucked
To answer me
Unless you're three sheets
Four, five, six bottles
And you ask me over and over
Does he make you cum?
Of a man I've yet to touch
But you think you have the answers
And you think the power is yours
You think it's up to you,
But that cold-press potion has always been
My spell
My love
My power
You kick and scream and cheat the game
What have you not done
To convince yourself
I don't own you?
I ate your last semblance of sanity for breakfast
On bread with triple cream butter and toasted coconut
And in that mundane morning of
Coffee cups and toast
You missed
the swirling galaxy between my teeth


Stars will slumber in milky pools
 of Aphrodite's tears,
melted marble goddesses
 cradling in the crook of one arm
love, and in the other war
 The lapping tides
 A pulsing heartbeat,
split between the two.
You are bound,
and corset-sewn into my flesh

The slow rise
of my spine
The reach of my breasts
When I draw
sharp breaths
At the lapping
of your tongue
The slow white drip
 lingering down
The tenderness
of my thigh
Hera's tears, your granted curse
Fill me
from the bottom up