-
Skeletons
It used to be we kept them locked up tight, bound and gagged, jaw bones chained to the floor and filthy rags taped over the holes where the eyes once waited, watching. Now we buy them brand new Pick them out of catalogs, customized with all the latest diagnoses, all the fancy damage upgrades Shabby…
-
Mourning Dove
I found him at the top of the stairs without a head. It was a clean break, no sign that it had ever been there and though his face was gone his body lay in a pose of accusation making me the guilty one. I wrapped him in brown paper and threw him into the…
-
Bridges
There is a bridge between caring and not Sturdier than it looks and once you take the first step, it’s easy to cross. You can see them there, still- the things you used to care about Feel them watching, catch the breeze that carries across a memory of them, the scent of something lost You…
-
Cobwebs
I don’t know the people here with their serious smiles and their faces hard and dark, shuffling along, dancing some slow-motion two-step no one really seemed to take the time to learn I watch their tentacled hands, flaky skin and grotesque knuckles reaching toward their eyelids pulling the lashes out making wishes on the damaged…
-
That Was a Long Time Ago
We were all disembodied captured behind glass eyes, red-rimmed and leaking fluids in our creased, cupped palms sliding through our fingers to the floor where they bathed in retribution. We were all glass-eyed, blinded, captured by our wrists, bound with the long and strangling cords of their self-loathing, we were hunched over ovens, burning flesh…
-
Judge Not
Black robe, you are no Solomon, perched inside your wooden cage blathering like an imbecile left too long believing in your own insipid wit Lathering the flaccid patriarchal cock with the shit you saved from yesterday, tucked inside your cheek there is no room under the folds for the consequence of truth If you sliced…
-
Orphans.
We are all God’s children, black white, brown No, not black, not white certainly not brown; those are the ones with the bombs even though they are the ones who most closely resemble Jesus Christ on a cross; we are all God’s children wrapped in His loving arms unless your loving arms are a woman’s…
-
Street Fair Slut
Let’s sell these things on a street corner somewhere looking far too innocent, with raised eyebrows and lids open wide, and the hint of a smile hanging around the edges of our lips Let’s open our coats and offer them, hanging there from rusted hooks ten for a penny, twelve for a dollar buy one…
-
Red Shoe
And in my cracked skull there lie the remains, crushed wings, glitter made from the lazy bodies of insects too weak to run The sun shines from between their segmented legs They are the ladies waiting to be saved from the darkness they pretend. Black shoe, they stick their raw heads in electric ovens burning…
-
If I
If I stay to watch the fog creep in and overtake the hills devouring the trees and leaving only the damaged voices of coyotes in the dark If I stay to watch the sun come up and bathe the sky in vulgar light and blind me with the privilege of sight If I stay to…