the war is over and we are still …………here. if the good angel had told Faustus to go fuck himself, the metaphysical baggage of war and peace, heaven and hell would have spilled out on the dark floor of the study like a bowl of peanut shells. but the angel spoke of love and the […]
I sit next to him on a park bench on a cool summer day. His smile is beautiful. He tells me I am gorgeous. I take the compliment, wrap it up and put it in my bra, the place that is closest to my heart. So, I am gorgeous. I have succeeded at the task […]
BOND “GIRLS” PT. 1: LUCIA
Everyone loves older men and even older cities. But women
must be girls, and preferably girls from out of town. But
I’ve lived here my whole life. And when you died, I fell
Each of us, in turn, has to answer, in one word,
the question: What are you feeling?
In December no less, when it gets dark at four
and this classroom’s been double-booked.
Another band of politicized marginals
prowls restless in the corridor
I like it when we shop together. All of us
at the heart of a snakeskin wallet. Grocery-bag ghosts
graze on footfalls. A wallet where we’re kept
like photobooth shots. There was a man
I learned the secret of serenity
by waterboarding daffodils.
My Buddha is landfill.
My mantra choked
There are things I want to show you, like the empty pause that encircles desire. Or how Klimt knew that a woman bends her neck that far for a kiss only if she really wants it. I want to show you how quiet it gets when you’re in the company of someone who no longer loves you.
Inside its surround
folded in, I’m a fold
of it, I’ve never left atmospheric
borders I engorge to the point of
Another bloody body
another child dying while
doing the unthinkable
eating food, going home,
eyes meeting impatient suspicion.
I would cut off my own thumb for the perfect thimbleful
of wood-ear mushroom and bamboo shoot soup.
My paychecks all go to heirloom parsnips and pickled lamb tongues.
I dream of singed pigs’ feet, pearly cartilage and crisp skin.