the old woman kneels
in the empty church
a relic
among the freshest of
sins

Sticks and Stones

how is it
that verbs are
actions
and yet just
words?

Growing Pains

if I could water
my garden
with the tears
of my own eyes
I would
but I cannot feel
its growing pains
and so I must use
a hose

i have soft
baby skin
stretched tight
across chalky
dead bones

To Mirth, Wherever She May Be

lick my legs
i am dripping with laughter
it pools by my feet
as you nibble my toes

Read My Palm

read my palm
the imprint of your
cheek
is still fresh upon it
ink drying
from where I slapped you
in an effort to write
a wrong

The Meaning of Life

sometimes i wonder why
we bother
to illuminate
some parts of the city
and not others
but i realize
they are only illuminated
because we make it so
why
then
not?

steal from the greats
they shall make you strong
but in your strength
you shall never be great

taste and see
for the good is lord
over all the
well-intentioned
disasters

Eating Alone

there is a romance
in eating alone
a solumn ritual
communing with
some ghosts
in the back of your
eyes

Sea Drum

whoever made
the sea
must also have made
your drum
which in waves
beats my skin
into salt

when i am alone
i hear the sound of
my voice
inside of my
head

sometimes there is a weight
crying baby
strapped to my chest
and suckles me dry
like evaporated
milk

Forgiveness Is Fickle

i know i will forgive you
i've done it before
let's not begrudge
the inevitable
so what's the point
of fuming now
when the fire
will soon fizzle out

i hope i will forgive you
i've never doubted before
you've always shaken loose
the inevitable
and thrown it to the wind
this fire is too
hot
for prophecy

i will never forgive you
forget before
i do begrudge you
all future
inevitable
hurt you caused
i'm fuming
and furious



i forgave you.

Dust

somehow you are near me
even when you
are so far away
you cling
like dust in my eyes
blinding me
to a future without you
or the clouds of
dust
you leave behind

If I Lived As Long as the Mountains

the river may carve
a tumbling path
into rock
one grain of sand
at a time
leaving its footprints
only to be recarved
the next century

i wonder if
i lived as long as
the mountains
if my blood
would carve its
tumbling path
into my body
its pulse against me
one grain at a time
until i was free

when i look
to the skies
shaded by trees
dripping with rain
my heart is filled
with song

The Earth is Swollen

the earth is swollen
the rivers tumbling high
their rounded muscles
straining
to hold in the power
crashing with their
fingered waves
against the rocks

Let Us Sleep

my darling
let us sleep
on a bed of moss
unfurling our arms
to the sky
like the ferns
and watch
as the trees grow
rings
around our fingers

the water laps
at the colored rocks
of the shore
so too
do i swallow your
round smooth heart
with my ripples

Little Ripples

the waves weave
a fabric
over the surface of the
lake
little ripples
darting in and out
over and under
silver thread
upon Poseiden's
loom

Reeds

above the water
the reeds quiver
each a charcoaled stroke
of woody pencil
beneath the water
the reeds sway
smudged by the palm
of the waves

Reflections

when a bird flies
over water
another bird flies
through the water
spirit bird
the reflection
of its soul

when a mountain leans
over water
another mountain leans
over the sky
spirit mountain
the reflection
of its majesty