One Night

•October 31, 2014 • 2 Comments

On Mischief Night I
Embody Lizzie Borden
Bad parents Beware



Artwork: Lizzie Borden by Krista Huot



•October 30, 2014 • Leave a Comment

A leafless tree bears
Down on me in monochrome
There is my tombstone

The feel of hip bones
Pressing cool on porcelain
There is life again


Tree TubPhotograph by Siripiri on Tumblr

One Mistress

•October 30, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Last night
My lover made a claim, wanting 100% of me
Of loyalty and of belief, I will not let this be
I reject this, my body cannot digest this
100% of anything is a lie, unless we speak of when you die
All of me is not up for grabs, not even on the table
I alone will save this painted face if I am able
There is at least one card you cannot see
So close that I have sewn it directly into me
Mine, this fleshy vest, you may have the rest
But this Dame, she’s mine to play, one day
I will reach, with my own hand, into my beating heart
I will rip these seams apart, and I will throw her down
This Queen, and claim her crown
She and I alone decide how much of me
To hold, to play, to bluff, discard, or hide
Or perhaps if you are lucky
To let it ride


Queen Judith Painting: Judith II The Queen of Hearts by Karen M.

Red Room

•October 29, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Tonight I adore being voyeur,
While walking dark streets with a distant friend,
Discussing stomach pains and poetry.

A hostile city hugs me tight this night,
And its architecture aches straight into me,
Giving me license I do not normally allow.

I see your lace slip and chase a bitter breeze,
Your smooth and sanguine walls disrobe before me,
I discover in this grit a moment of pure wonder.

I have not felt like this in months,
Free and peeping, willing to wallow deep inside belief,
Everything else ceasing to be.

Except for you, your second floor beckoning,
Orderly rows of leather-bound books, an exactly centered chandelier,
Offering a glimpse of life that I cannot keep myself from creating.

Tonight I follow my forgotten fetish,
I let myself drift and remember the thrill of imagining,
I watch, and am made warm, for a moment, inside your red room.


Red Room Never Tell

Photograph: I’ll Never Tell by EyesOpenPhotos on

This is a reworking of a poem I wrote many years ago…before that other said “red room” became polished pop culture.

Too Clever

•October 28, 2014 • 2 Comments

I call this a human practice
But nearly regularly now
An animal prances in on paws
Stops big and strong until I notice
Pulls me with a deadwood stare
Just barely leaning towards out there
And nearly regularly now
I follow
We sit silent in the wild
And all manner of creatures
Arise, call, alight, and crawl
When I am steady long enough
They fold me into their fight
For survival
Share with me their pauses
Taking stock
So nearly regularly now
I am aware
That I am simply one of them
And this stillness, this struggle
Is not specially reserved
Is made too clever in our head
This instinct has been born and bred
And nearly regularly now
We have


Painting: Ambalance by Rico Blanco

This Morning

•October 27, 2014 • 3 Comments

I try to write hai,
Ku about interruption.
I’ve too many syll…



Image: Sun Interruption by LarsenOnDeviant

This Ache

•October 25, 2014 • 6 Comments

This ache
Here you are again
Nesting nerves under my skin
The obvious and throbbing thumb
The growling ghost inside my gut
The drawer left open yesterday
The toppled pile of disarray
The hungry tug away from tasks
The dream today that just distracts
The chair pulled out and left that way
The knick-knack put back out of place
The water boiling down to bare
The scent of scorching in the air
The forgotten feeling left ajar
The cold stuffs spoiling where they are
The dust shadow upon the shelf
The empty pang for something else
You reside inside this space
Here you are again
This ache


Painting: Rachael by Heather Bolinder


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