Person Suit

i feel as though
you have cut into my
person suit.
i shall sew it up,
trying to mimic the
meticulous construction
with which it was tailored,
but i know it shall never be
the same.
this person suit,
this human veil,
does not do well with the
needle and thread
of stitched pride.

Dance With Death, Beautiful Ones

why does no one ever talk about
how beautiful
violence
is?
oh the gorgeous rage of thunder
claps of blood from birth pain
in waves of crushing wind
blown fire lovely in its
chaos--
it's stunning;
the destruction
in which we are made
anew.
<spill my blood skin me break my bones>
and i shall
smile
at the elegance.
dance with death, beautiful ones.
violence creates
life.

Inheritance

deoxyribonucleic acid
rhymes with
nothing.
funny that
inheritance
should be
free verse.

Expiration Date

a taxi driver in

vienna

once told me,

"we all have an 

expiration date

stamped on us,"

as he drove me to the

hapsburg crypt.

a bit morbid, perhaps,

but fitting

in a city wrested

with the 

bones of empire.

i thought of him

again,

when the doctors 

pulled away my skin

and showed me my 

expiration date.

i drove home

laughing morbidly,

by body wrested

with the bones of

irony. 

yeast

beware the yeast of the
sadducees
and expired bread mixes
dough stale and turgid
clinging to my
bread machine
refusing to grow
the rise of modern life
invincible righteousness
plugged into walls
the fall of crusty golden
parables
the graininess of truth

Wisdom

when i think
your thoughts
strands of
your hair
grow in
my head
perhaps someday
my locks shall be
full of wisdom