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Hallelujah in the Alley, Death Style
In a dark alley, Jesus Christ stripped off his vestments, stood naked and hairless and drew on his gloves
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Dolls on Independence Day
Tiny little plastic parts all lined up Glass eyes, dead stares blank space where the hearts should be slender fingers locked in place grasping something in the air no one can see frozen painted lacquered toes nailed to the floor in effigy
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Wreck.
This is the part, tiny little nothing man where you reach down inside where everything good festers and dies, pull out your misery and strangle yourself with your own fetid tongue. Street whore cries injustice, plastic face melting off under the acid of her manufactured tears knees bruised and bloody from too long at his…
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Fly
The world is defined by the dregs dying at the bottom of your cup drowning in the cold, left behind by your apathetic inability to do something as simple as change the filter –dumping the new, coarsely ground by some half-assed industrial machine on top of what was left from last time, stale and bitter…
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June 10 2014
When I found you, the days were short, just starting to lean toward the solstice, gathering up the warmth from the sun and hoarding it away from the dark Moon-chilled, we built an empire out of the stars.
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Time Travel.
We made psychedelic candy in my grandma’s muffin tins and I drank chocolate-flavored liquor from a teacup from a set I got for Christmas from a friend that I lost somewhere in the rubble of the past and I found words again my fingers, lit the buzz before the thunder You took a picture of…
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Four/20
The faucet’s dripping again. There’s glitter on my eyes and in my hair Four years and twenty days ago you dropped your smile at my feet and left it there for me to find, your skin burned holes into my life and I bled ink into yours, marked we shared a glass, tasted where we…
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Solenopsis Invicta
I got bitten by a fire ant last weekend, for the first time in forever, and it reminded me of this tiny little thing I wrote nearly three years ago. It makes sense to me, anyway. We lay tangled each breath a taste of something like a wish and in the cold we built forever…
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Left.
These are the things you will leave behind: a quickly-penned grocery list shampoo tomato sauce lemon juice eggs A prom picture, roughly halved the other piece tossed aside with your virginity burnt, perhaps in some post-adolescent fit of Pagan forgetting rituals unsuccessful, of course but effective nonetheless A crayon, carnation blue her favorite and she…
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Remembering Dot, Again and Always
Days like this I remember letters in tiny boxes careful pen strokes never crossing the lines Fat red apple jar filled with chocolate sandwich cookies The light on the back porch sun breathing its life into us I was so much older than she, sometimes still the infant on her lap She made me laugh,…
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April Fox 