Sunday, March 29, 2015

Yellow Ribbon

Holding still in the deflated divot 
of an air mattress  
I am always so small
One leaf shining in the window 
Is it an eye that flickers 
Or mouth of devil face 
Talking to me 

picture myself as a pile of jealous fruit
tumbled on a bed  
A cornucopia sinking garish
Like those silly paintings 
Giuseppe Arcimboldo
The fruits that make my body
turning dark sap soft and molding green chalk
I feel so ridiculous for that
Eat me!

A platter of fruit in a dark room
It's right to be a platter 
On this stately Victorian street 
So old and east
It's almost purple 
When I squint I can see black fringe
Silver glinting 
Iron rings for horses 

I wake up in California 
With the vacation bed birds
Hot pancake and syrup of a sunrise
I think about you

I imagine you and me buttery 
Our own yellow house in the west
working together at the pearl wallpaper 
Steaming and stripping
Nectar dripping 
Butterfly outside

Tuesday, March 10, 2015


i do believe
you are what you perceive

digging in my heels
i still want to go back in time

tear for th first day of spring
tear like the snow melt

what comes is better than
what came before

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

i'm very young

I used to be so ready 
rolling the rock up a fantasy hill
now I could almost be the rock
rolling heavily foreverly away

at 4 in the morning 
the window looks like a purple TV 
covered in vines
a comfortable cage