Monday, August 12, 2013

From "A Prayer for Owen Meany":

...she would at times gaze into the fire, although nothing she saw there ever prompted her to tend to the logs or the coals; possibly she preferred smoke to flames.
There are probably more lesbians who would call themselves pyromaniacs, but don't we all know women like this? It's not about laziness. Maybe it's about fear.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Crimson Haze

Try to dismount.
Lose your feet
Pedals flyNo guide
red ribbons tied to handlebars
flapping in the breeze.

Monday, November 26, 2012


Sharing champagne smiles half-hashed beer bottle metaphors giggling guessing messages from asteroids I admired you from a distance(loved you because you loved him loved your mouth before I'd kissed it)you were the only woman I ever trusted to love him enough

Clenched teeth closed eyes held breath for years he's known that nothing stops a supernova not even love
She sat and smoked a cigarettecells dividing and dividingshe thought about this life she’s madecells dividing and dividingthis chess piece with which she’s chosen to playcells dividing and dividingis but a pawn in which she is just no longer confiding
We're all here now shifting in crowds to swim in the nebula breathe in the clouds though I’m guilty (it’s gluttony I hardly knew you)I’ll fill my lungs hoping to shine brighter through you

Sunday, July 1, 2012

The Key Still Fits

Tonight, we are cats who sprint toward closing doors
We are lovers-past wrapping, clawing, grasping
seeking heat and making warmth
Without water stains or who-spoons-who
We find our mismatched edges worn.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012


A wish waits at the window
pandering impossible desire 
branches shift in moon-made shadows
dancing like a funeral pyre
Back hot against an evening fire  
smiles trick on her love's face 
but she's not yet ready to retire 
fancies truth could fast deflate 
to end! as quick as summer rain 
from trembling walls and tin roof beats 
to silence: a weaker fate
than adumbrated fantasy
If not dissolved by wine and lips
she might resist. She might resist.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Sitting By a Column

Sitting here, that’s all
cheek pressed against the marble
self-improvement sucks.
Ol’ Rail Splitter looking
past the dome/where you
used to be my home.
Wherever you are come rest your head on my lap.
Let me kiss your hair.

But no more of this;

sadness is what got us here.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011


The days lapse
with your head in my lap
I'm too blessed to be
so plagued by
wish you would
My book's weak on poems to show you
I'm... smitten.
And though I'd prefer you wrapped around
to curled against me, like a kitten
I do like the way my fingers make you arch your spine and purr.
Sometimes I think I'd better fare
hips-tipped, ass to bare
and yet, I sought bear hugs before
They left my fingers cold.