Sunday, August 11, 2013

Walk


We are in the dead
waiting--

break branches--

bones under
wolf petals.

I stare at
the dark place

In God. And
for a moment

we are
twenty something.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Leaving


Some of the papers
on my desk were

really important
at one time.

Some of them,
are faded, illegible--

great
achievements.

I feel like they mean
nothing now,

these heavy
oaken boughs

shimmering
in their flight

skin preparing
for    departure.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Wolfsbane


You are the river
that cuts me open,
the moment where
everything fails.

I just want you
to concentrate me
into ape-body,

but I'm your
humble cryptoid.

Can't I just pretend
not to know you,
that I've already
made it to the ocean,

that your current
doesn't
        spiral
             over my faces.

Friday, August 2, 2013

SETI


Between the wings
and a bird you

made me nothing.

Guttural lion,
phonetic city, throbbing,

oceanic howls.

It's like I was born
to slither out

the plant egg

and wet willy
extraterrestrial sages.


Friday, July 26, 2013

Summer Fling


The turtles have 
returned to the river. 

The ducklings 
have grown old.

I stand in the wolf-
kissed ether.

The lake is just 
beginning to swell.

I don't want
our howls to wane

with the summer,
this ship in August's
   
     setting sun.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Wading


I am alien
with my most

unimportant pinky
still dying

to phone you home.

My wave
has turned

into a partially
clenched fist.

I remember how

I used to throw
out five fingers

and make my hand dance.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Shallow Seas


Gigantic crescent
moon house,

the coming
of the skull fish.

Scrambled
octopus going,

"Mom, Mom."

This is your
cranial compartment

on Planet Earth.