Friday, November 14, 2014



it was not at all

what I expected. nothing
really changed.
not then.

later, however –
later it was all

different. later,
there was recognition
of loss. the violence
of assumption
lost. something
we both took
from each other.

yours was the better bargain.


at that moment
all i felt was surprise.
that you didn’t stop
wouldn’t stop
when I asked, stop

i carried all that
for years,
the weight
of that exchange
growing larger.
then forgotten.
or ignored.


i recognize the weight
of chains, what burdens
i carried forward.

i remember
how sharp
the hook, how deeply
buried, sweetly disbursed.

this is how we share
and in this sharing

i carry it away.

all that waiting.


ah, cavafy.
i must admit
to not liking you
too much --
all those feelings,
all that feeling
about feeling,
all that broad stroke talk
about Beauty.

beauty you say, and
i hear desire. no.
not desire: appetite. 

oh, cavafy.
such a consuming eye –
roving over all that young flesh;
the architecture of longing,
your Platonic lust,
the dust of loss covers
the furniture, the room
empty, the windows empty,
the cupboards bare.

no wonder this dance
tired you, the image
of an ideal lover looming
in your imagination,
held perfectly still
by memory,
pored over,
your heart
poured out
with nothing
to hold it.


that magpie
chirp of squirrel

leaves rustling
my thoughts

this quiet moment


Saturday, September 6, 2014

New Gods

New Gods

an experiment for Jack*
The moving hand appears!
          and scratches its way across the skin,
          etching its words in the flesh.
          behold. behold. behold.
The source gives us the irrevocable counsel!
          and now what shall we do?
          we hold that word in our small hands –
          it is too large for us,
          it does not fit in our mouths,
          we cannot compass it.
But it does not decide! The right of choice is ours! That is the life equation!
          such bombast! such proclamation!
          what pride encircles and draws us
          new gods made in the image of
          hopeful longing and fear.
Make us the door for him to enter – prepare for the word. 

          and is this word now a door?
          we are birthed through language,
          it adorns us and wounds us and wraps
          us in its embrace. shhh. wait.

Let your circuits carry the word – let it grow loud – until it reaches the winds of infinity!

          i shall. if i can bear the weight
          of promises. and prophecies. and singing.
          if exultation doesn’t shatter
          my voice, or break my hands.

          if I can have just one more day

          where your hand speaks to me.

* Jack Kirby, ground-breaking comic book artist for both Marvel and DC comics

      * lines 1-3 are from DC Comics’ New Gods #1
      * lines 4-5 are from DC Comics’ Forever People #1


cavafy, they said

they said to read cavafy,
that classicist, nostalgic and horny.
or lonely. or something.

there’s a restlessness there,
echoing yours
    i think
it’s more a willful aimlessness,
a willingness to abandon
a train of thought, a history
filmed with dust, a longing
for something lost, something
with weight, shadowy gestures,
desire gained so rarely, and thinly.

ah, cavafy. you’re always on the edge
of saying something.
you meander amongst ruins,
burdened with longing, burdened.
tell me what you want.
is it really only beautiful bodies?
i am unconvinced. is it beauty?
are you being coy?
or merely guarded?

lovely wanderer, let’s stop playing games.
let me take your hand.
let us walk together.