Underwater my limbs waver in front of me — gently, muscularly, I exhaust the oceanscrubbing raw against the salt flakes, crystal abovethe bleached coral. Clinical cleanliness, writing before you read, style, speaking before you think. Mercy plays in opposites: monk seals recliningdecked out in caution tape; whole beaches receding and the distance between the islands increasing.
Parched. Parched like the texture of Egyptian papyrus the holy lands scribbling away at my bottom lip. I am abandoned. Have been. That is, not in some measureto deserve attention, but in the manner of being completely free. That within me which soothes the aching self flies and joins her soul to willow, one city park over. My grunting aches fire out, eventuallyno longer gasping for attention, no longer … Read More This is a Dream I Tell No One
Bonding like rose glue, like snagging a glass of water before it leaps to its death the still small rise of the holding hands movement. One smileis a thousand muscles; one living being the seed from a thousand trees. We were domesticated late. Some say not at all. But I think they are wrong — I see a dependency too great for the swift ocean floss that curls around bare … Read More Sunflower Sutra
dust bidden and stronger for itwith arm muscles wide enough to carry the coastal world upon untired shoulders, an indefatigable grin lightly on the brow. Yet be it that a swooping wasteland came to knock the rubber right off her rampaging, unlimited upon the full scope of the soul. Broken. Sorely borrowed.To become cowards in moments like theseis the real pity. To raise the chin once more and begin again … Read More Thus Should Have Ended Our Travels
A horse and her rider lay prone on a glassy hill. Trace a finger down the slope and we come to TheBase—which in this case we may simply call The Problem. The horse keeps her head down but the rider sits up, placing two shiny palms againstthe slipperiness of the hill. She sees something like the aftermath of a supernova, the early immigrationsof the English folk and realizes—deeply—where … Read More Tall Orders
Regard the sun. She winks with lashes tall as liesshe smooths the edges of her liquidgrin and calls the birds to flight before my eyes. Can but even one crab make it across the black lava rock before the tide folds itself once more upon the shore? I would extend my stick to him if I could, but my hands dissolveagainst the wood and I come to rest. Three o’clock. Ticking. Ticking. … Read More A Net to Snare the Sunlight
The willow won’t swaythe sage won’t scent the goldfinch won’t nest the life vest will not inflate the eyes won’t widen the sun won’t care the ink won’t flow the war-lords will not congregatethe clouds won’t lift the swans shall stay put endlessly the sea to be a never-ending barren witlessness& the darkness never felt The tongue is a dream.Nothings happens unless first a dream.