Anglerfish LoversHe calls himself my anglerfish And laughing, cries "I'm fusing with you!" Then presses his rail-thin rack of bones against my back Flesh to flesh to flesh to flesh. And I wish there were two of meAnglerfish Lovers
So I could see what his eyes are doing to my body.
I like to run my hands over the planes of his face And I try to imagine a floating third-person view of us
All tangled up together, soft curves and jutting bones juxtaposed Obnoxiously patterned sheets and pillowcases surrounding us Offering an eyeful of distractions.
He wraps his arms around me like a cocoon And
The Birth of Mother ButterflyThis internal revolution is a weapon of mass despair. So many crossed wires, the confusion of new priorities. Defuse the pipe bomb of adolescence To rewire and arm the warhead of maternity; This is frustration of nuclear proportions.The Birth of Mother Butterfly
Your golden hopes and glimmering dreams; I can feel their lambent warmth from the inside, But I fear the flash of your explosion into this world. The devastation, the obliteration of myself, The reckless child, the rebellious youth, Freeze-frame shadows of my selfishness; Caught unawares and startled, Forever etched on the rock faces &
Golden ChainGiggling at cotton fluffs So I won't spill tearsGolden Chain
In front of the doctor
Words of arsenic: Appointments. Extractions. Consequence.
Like Snow White,
Given a choice between common sense And needless desire I chose the latter (Never accept candy from strangers)
But I swallowed the poisoned seed And grew this black
laburnum
WALKINGI walked this morning, to escape the still somnolence of the house, and the sounds of quiet breathing. It was an aimless walk, unfocused and automatic, but it gave me time to reflect on things. I passed the paper lady somewhere around 50th street and Cecile Martin Park. Her eyes were as empty as the streets, and I wanted to shout to her, and tell her that she didn't have to look so despondent, that a quarter after five is not such a lonely time; more people are awake than she knows, and they probably all feel the lack of human electricity the way she does. Then I wondered if maybe she prefers her mornings without the interruption of humWALKING
Ellis the Coffee QueenThe world hangs on a thread, danglingEllis the Coffee Queen
like the greasy hair in his eyes, two small stones that even the glare
of the 60 watt star above them cannot cut through.
She would hold her breath--- if she knew it would help as they lay in his tired sheets, with a wall of silence
replacing their walls of skin.
In the morning she'll serve the coffee as he smokes his cigarette near the back
Donned with her paper crown, she'll squeeze her fist as the next customer, being sung through the door, doesn't realize she has plans o
Our Bible is Fiction TooEvery couple of months we go out into my back yard and pretend to commit suicide. Once his weight was too much for me, and I fell from under him. He could have suffocated, with the electrical cord around his neck. He was a boy scout who could tie any knot in the world, And who told me that dying was the only way to really live.Our Bible is Fiction Too
He put blanks in the gun to show me what it felt like. I had never cried harder in my life, And never felt more free. We started the “Nihilist Workers Party”, And laughed as we handed out photo-copied anarchist literature— That we didn
ClarityClarityClarity
Alone, I could have sworn
I heard a guy getting lucky about half-way through a recording of Miles Davis live from somewhere – with John Coltrane on the tenor sax and Art someone on the drums – as it spilt from KLON out of Cal State Long Beach at the witching hour Thursday night (which was, as I recall, Christmas night).
This is to say that I swear I heard, without really paying much attention, a man offer in a low but clear voice an evening of his co
BEAN
Sadness
Hope your lil one is well, and so are you!
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Hope things are doing well for you too. Happy belated birthday, I'm guessing?
Glad to hear your son is doing well, that's great news!
Hope you're loving being a parent!
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Sometimes I feel 25... and you know what? Feels grrrreat!
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"I am not afraid, I was born to do this."
-Joan of Arc
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starting anew.
~Coffeehouse
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