for Leslie King I Hey tickle tickle, the snail and the pickle The rat meows in bed. The street kitty barks, a rabid delight And the snail crawls all over it’s head! II One, two, “I like you.” Three, four, “Clothes on the floor.” Five, six, “Got nude pics?” Seven, eight, “He comes, you wait.”... Continue Reading →
You listen to classical music and to the cars which seem to carry the melodies of Moonlight Sonata right before your very ears. Even the construction workers beat in time. You remember a time that seems not so long ago, the goofy glasses from New Years Eve in year 2000, which seem ancient now along... Continue Reading →
1 Alfonso, Alfonso! King of the Night! Rest your head upon my bed, and never do take flight! Your mouth is all but wanting your eyes are full of spite so take me here! yes, take me now! to drown in love’s delight. 2 He dreamed of her hungry body, that surging bed of hair—... Continue Reading →
"The only true thoughts are those which do not grasp their own meaning." Adorno
I come to your house looking for you but find only your middle child seeking visions. I call you by your given name. You do not come out. The doors are unlocked and a mangey bird sits by the window you left open. It says, Camp out overnight! for surely the man enamored by darkness... Continue Reading →
O blood how could you be so apparent? Is it an Indian summer or the lover to my side, or— I pause to cover my head still, hands bluish a colony of blue a sky of breath beneath my gaze—the taste of my tranquil heart.
"I don't change. I simply become more myself." Joyce Carol Oates
At the risk of being broken, they grow together. One breathes, one yellows, one takes up the sun yellowing without noticing. I have thought, on occasion of clipping one, leaving a clean machete tree stump just to see if one grows longer just to see if the one grows back.
Peck on you, Rosa where are you anyway? two missed phone calls & the passing of days Ready to hurt yourself? Ready to hurt yourself again? Honey, don’t fall in love is really what he meant. That little avant guard-ista tasty like a pizza winsome winds beneath her coattails, and charm like starry-eyed minnows in... Continue Reading →