I Owe No Explanation but Here it is…

I called it home, Took off my shoes then tiptoed to the frosted sheets where the winter air crystalized around where you lay. And so it goes, The cold that echoes the freezing Then shattering Of the plates in the kitchen and the heartbeat therin. A cat purring in the windowsill, Drunk off the shimmering…

Ensemble

There’s you strumming your musky guitar Across a velveteen couch. You are only a few chipped and painted fingers away, Grazing your hand over and over again With the same pattern You play Every Sunday. I do not feel the earthquakes on the couch, And I cannot hear the earth clattering over your Husky voice….

Krispy Kreme Dreams (purple and blue)

The notes are purple and blue And mixed with the smells of whiskey In the jazz bar parked in her dad’s car. Fingers tap away with clicks and licks, And faces are lost in the pale blue stories.  Scarlet silk drapes over her jagged shoulders shivering On a midnight Friday. Veins popping from her pearls…

Please Wear Your Pearls

I used to be able to wrap you in my golden chains And squeeze gently to give you a Precious embrace. You had not felt the tips of my red polished claws then. We were two apprehensive and beautiful persons. Something happened when I dropped the ink to the page And splattered a little on…

Kingdoms and Umbrellas

My mother always told me to find a man who treats his mother right…   Please don’t look at that girl that way with her bangs hanging loose over her glasses. Why can’t she be reading in a cafe? She looks like a Katy or a Cynthia. Her braid trickles down to  her third rib….

Temple

If you look inside of you, you should not see the remains of a former lover, a man who once gripped your arm and sewed your lips shut with his. His hollow mind should not encapsulate your skull, one that could be brilliant. You should not see a coward, a girl who is afraid of…

Confessional

I don’t understand this post-modern bull crap. The writer and the soul of the poem should sing sweet sounds and fall into a harmony that is genuine, unfragmented – beautiful. Why did the writer stop flying out of her cage? Her success has led her to stay at home feeding a baby who has an…

Sailors

We are not sailors. But you put us on a ship. Told us to man the deck. Gave us rope and a wheel and said “go”. The sea is not our home. We do not like the sounds or the smells. Empty bottles line the bow. To forget, to remember. To feel, to numb. The songs…

Wet Socks

Anxiety is being caught in the rain. You were in pure sunshine, rays warming your freckled skin. Then – thunder, lightning, heavy rain drops falling fast, hard, and cold. It catches you when you’re made-up and pretty, without an umbrella, and everything is now ruined: your feet are cold and gritty in the wet socks….

Bodies on Concrete

Blue bodies on cold concrete; mildew grazing up against dehydrated skin soaked with liquor and caffeine. Adrenaline replacing purpose, rent replacing homes. Counting down on chipped and gnawed-off fingernails how many hours left – Quickly passing drinks and secrets. This is no party, this is no ball, this is simply a gathering of souls –…