Now

So I am
unkind now,
a fact which has
fallen and settled.

I mean to
perpetuate this
with an unbiased
honesty.

Still I saw myself curled
into the chair,
sleeping
in the library,

both arms wrapped
'round the coat
bundled
'neath my head.

I knew
then, that I am
as
ever

a new light appeared today a sad
light and although born only moments ago
it is familiar to me and feels old

the mind takes inventory of simple
things, blue wool sweater chamomile
tea in plum colored mug three pills

and the plumage of a love, material
artifacts once arranged as in a museum have vanished
it is as if they never were

and so a new light a sad light
a wooly blue february light
it is better this way

old book in french, grandpa during
the war, white candle, postcard says
'Take Me As I Am"

some of my friends think i fall
in love as automatically as i fall
down stairs, or in the shower, or

into convoluted embraces. some
of my friends think i am only
in love with him, which is

true. still i have placed this truth
in a drawer along with its beautiful
flotsam and said, enough now

and the new light the sad light
understands as once i was blind
now can i see

and i do.

nosebleed number two

it is beginning to feel dangerous, love
like you might pull the persian rug
from beneath me
might leave me alone after
seasons of strains and bequeath
to me nothing

the sound of rain the faint
blue pain does something to
my chest
i give to you all of the best
and in return get
i'm not sure what i get

a nosebleed i guess
my gaze arrested on your
blue eyes and your
mechanical mess and i don't think
you care that i love you

2am

 2am

My eyes are round as nickels my 

pupils like dimes as I now know something 

which had previously eluded me 

and it makes me feel 

washed up on cold sand tired 

tired to beat the band set in my place 

by the slow movement of a hand

i’ve been doing no one favors as i 

tossed them candy from my fire-truck 

saying things like ‘sweet’ and ‘well’ and

trying to please the entire parade confounded by 

the trash left on the street

dont know what gave me the notion i was 

chamomile tea 

to every changing face that once entreated me 

thought I was kind and found that I 

am only another kind of cruel

dedicated to THE THIEVES

dedicated to the thieves, 2/5/11

last night, was voluntarily whipped 

repeatedly with belts i also 

jumped on a trampoline got my bell rung danced 

on a table 

danced danced danced in various environs was 

kissed for want of protest, a public display of 

“woman abandoning quixotic nature in favor of 

hedonist’s experiential quest” 

rimbaud would approve, or wait--

not give a fuck. 

at any rate, i hope you’re having fun with the bleach 

that you stole from the trunk of my unlocked car, dirty 

thieves, and the bicycle you absconded with

from my backyard.

my father bought me that basket damn it you’ve 

no respect for sentimentality at all!