Tuesday, January 31, 2012

(day 242: your fingers were spears (three parts))

Your fingers were spears
and they skewered me. I languished.
John Travolta laughed.  

I want to be fancied.
I didn't know better! Her purse is gold
strings, cut from your hand.

More needs to be said.
I write it! Still you are running, pant pant.
I will not follow.

I want to be fancied.

Monday, January 30, 2012

(hardly at all)

You don't know me. Fuck!
Words frenetic why's to why
can't I tell you me.

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Friday, January 27, 2012

(literary burglary #1 OR, Sorry Dave Eggers)

First off, I'm tired.
I am true of heart! You, too: tired.
And you, true of heart.

!

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Monday, January 23, 2012

(snow day)

If I could move this wall,
the better to see:
universe, white white white.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

(the artist nascent slowly arrives)

You are shy, but I
push papers to your lidded eyes--
look. see what i have made.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

(I trust [your] fingers beside [my] spine)

They search for-- some
thing: tickling aches, dipping into knots
and turns, tenderness.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

(day late)

Visionaries, note:
It is your job to speak loud.
Do not be bashful.

Monday, January 16, 2012

(this is how we count to three)

First noise, movement,
Sparklers unleashed. Jubilation,
The silence at the end.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

(Musical Mash-ups IX: to sit before you here today)

Hello, I'm a monster
too. (but) When we were young
our eyes were blue.


*with attributions owed to the Barr Brothers

Saturday, January 14, 2012

(headlights)

6 AM I'm cranky.
Brake for fur, quiet hoofing.
Suddenly worth it.

Friday, January 13, 2012

(untitled 29)

What coward you are.
Cut cut cutting people down.
Afraid of the saw.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

So I pine for you.
You, aliveness. You: Joy.
Licking at faith.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

(not made)

I'm brave for others.
For myself I grow afraid.
Thus a teacher, born.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Friday, January 6, 2012

(Love Poems 1)

My darling, you are
like water for me, coaxing
pebbles into glass.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

(Musical Mash-ups VIII: when the dam breaks down)

I am a book torn.
Gone the things that hide all fears. 
Trusting you write, too. 



*with attributions owed to Manchester Orchestra

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

(Love Poems 2)

Your brain is a dream
unplugged. It nestles skyward.
I watch, becoming.