September 2011
1 post
Pittsburgh in September
i forgave you once in a small space in a lean moment that is very far from the boy you exist as for me distance had numbed points muffled memories and you were shapeless i couldn’t contain you then.
we exist in waves slight salutes and large swells in the last rush you were sitting, caged on the sofa resolving if your love for me was if you loved me enough after a year in another after...
July 2011
1 post
WatchI was asked to read at Taj Mahal Open Mic’s 2 Year Anniversary show this past April and not only was I fortunate enough to participate but my reading was recorded and included on a compilation album you can listen to here: http://tajtuesdays.bandcamp.com/album/taj-2-year-anniversary
Thank you Andy Gallagher, Phil Kim, Zach Baird & others for supporting myself and my art.
May 2011
1 post
i lost you in the spring
in may, i learned this truth: i bloom, not to offer what’s left of you to a warm wind like the frosted ashes of a term’s casualty, but to feed what last winter has made bare. like a sprout heaving the cold from its limbs, it is also my birthright to bud.
March 2011
2 posts
strike with the fist
how much do your hands weigh now that they hold more than your pulse? i’ve seen them dangling low like the weight you swallow has possessed your outline my gut sinks me still. about how long will it take to seep to my edges? about how long until it clots? cleanse me but do not leave me light there must be a stench to my soddened shuffle when will my shadow yield a thicker shade? when will...
ohio
even alone you move with her friday night at the party i saw you side-step left to make room in your conversations for her measurements were memorized by the shape you molded standing right next to her on softer earth and packed back to the midwest friday night at the party i saw you dangle bottled beer in your other hand fingers left free to find her palm while you looked on eventually jamming...
February 2011
2 posts
the withering hours
i heard the world split and roar i awoke with crust in my eyes with core on the pillow melting at my feet warming the cold side of the bed i watched it curl your skin away from me singeing what you’ve shed and what has stayed i saw it level the shape sunken in my wrinkled sheets from when you let your bones grow heavy with me and i wish i had been alone to rest my fingers in the grooves...
stalled salvation
i was baptized by an adjustable shower head that was set to fast massaging pulse when i blessed it for beating blackened rivers from crossing my open pores there is nothing holy in bloodshot eyes shaking shoulders and violent gasps but i did kneel. i did with a curved back with a bowed head against a dripping faucet that dug deep into my crown and i clasped my hands against my sunken breast and...
January 2011
1 post
Insula
i’ve heard that we are lost here a chorus of blue-jeaned sirens leaning on a wall of wilderness pale-handed and chain smoking our voices ring clean of our sins we repent with every exhale refusing alleluia practicing labored discord our final note still sounds of ‘amen’ i know that we are safe here our backs against the frosted glass between our shoulders falls the shadow...
December 2010
1 post
the glass pane
there is no beauty here. broken-necked birds heads hanging on snapped spines ruptured lungs suck shallow breaths twisted napes above stiffly shut wings so we draw them in air on clear skies toward a full sun slack necks soaring wind burying beak into breast blind but still winged we are so proud to see them in flight suffocating with wings outstretched
October 2010
2 posts
the mouth of the just
(proverbs 10:31) words unwise: i’m gonna use you too i’m gonna split your tied tongue and make you talk till your words flow black shallow viscous pools on paper i’m pressing to your chin i swear to god you had better swallow the surplus slurp till the i’s created are in mine own image
for human use
i said, try me on so you stretched my skin like a hide to make sure i could fit stretched to hope i could cure and cover broken bones intending her split skeleton to stand 5’5” when i dried now you can stand straight too and watch us learn to walk unfamiliar steps to exhale together her ribs swelled it only took a breath to break me
September 2010
1 post
as ladies do
my old friend the sentiment has spoiled our words are unfit to swallow we chew them candied & courtly we spit them as ladies do small spoonfuls of scalding sugar dots of venom reddening our cheeks decorating our eyelids erupting from our pink mouths burning our split tongues oh, it is such a shame that the warmth once shared has boiled that it did not crystallize before it burned
August 2010
2 posts
Patron of the Art (unfinished)
there is a long-limbed girl across from you and i when she parts her lips to receive a cigarette we are sitting mezzanine do you always carry your lorgnettes to bars with long-seated booths?
Writing Advice from Kurt Vonnegut
This is an excerpt from Kurt Vonnegut’s essay “How to Write with Style” which appeared in his book, Palm Sunday (1981). In the essay, he’s giving his advice on how to examine your own writing style and ways to improve it.
In Sum:
1. Find a subject you care about. 2. Do not ramble, though. 3. Keep it simple. 4. Have the guts to cut. 5. Sound like yourself. 6. Say what...
July 2010
3 posts
Calm
you silence the trees’ whistling as if they are rambling drunks that is when i understood that you believe the world to be still that it does not sigh and groan as people do that the deepest inhales are also silent but you have never become small to a shaking branch or have listened to it gasp as you press against it with a full chest and entangle your thighs around her limbs
James Joyce's Dirty Letters →
even when referring to his affinity for his wife’s flatulence, the man is still the author of ulysses and finnegans wake. my dirty letters certainly aren’t nearly as eloquent (or concerned with farting).
size 12 times new roman you have made me into a poem uniformed self-shaped chaos can be untangled here i am lovely, they will mean i am what they have learned poetry is and you will be applauded for containing me