Her Tenderness

her tenderness was taken from her

she now resists every caressing hand and careful heart

that prays for her tenderness to broach

to mount a truly new start

preferred to be by herself

than alone with multitudes around

better to love the creations

than the creators themselves, she's found

perhaps it's better

to be lost together

she will never consider that world;

her tenderness was stripped from her flawless brow

an enchanting queen unpearled

Gray Life Orchestra

i walk lightly

head on a swivel

and bury my acorns just below the surface

hands in my pockets

i keep my profile low

and hurry to the hole in my tree

i am too frightened to sleep

with that anxiety roiling in me

alienation blankets my shivering body

surrounded by others,

but deeply and dangerously alone

gray life orchestra

alarms and ringtones

a symphony of medicocricy


stains on my body


wish you were here

to etch doodles upon our gravestone

oh, how you whisper

oh, how I shake

oh, how you whisper

all streets and places here bear your name

oh, how you whisper

wind whirls through courtyards,

sending crisp leaves and petals dancing,

and reminds me with hairs standing on my neck...


do you know that you whisper?

are you aware of guiding these winds?

you painted roses on my chest

and dissipated while colors were slick on my flesh

you resolve to maintain your pitch

pencils and books

in hands that shook

'neath planes that guided our eyes

to one another's

as lovers and shovers

what else could true hearts surmise?

dozers shake the Earth while they sleep

hand to fist

mouth to meat

dreaming of power

in places where the paralyzed meet

to walk themselves to duty

to boot their mighty feet

murky green skies for swimming

pass the absinthe,

fairy for trimming

fat from a sober reckoning

i’ll remember this in frames,

i’ll remember this becoming

i'll stop my lovely orbit

when gravity unwinds her arms;

the gentle pull that guided the Earth to form,

the iron vice that keeps us in tango

with fuel to blast from this disarming trance

i shovel deeper


to listen is the new language

the tips of our fingers

read the lines of escape

to paw like a lion

your life before all eyes on videotape

Time bites wrists

where cuffs may have been

for reading hip to hip

to have known a friend

severed lovers were still once lovers;

just as rivers never end

they strengthen as they bend

and feed a great, hungry body

Time guides my hand

bite marks and all

the cloth is tied

I am prepared to fall

things we wish we knew,

but certainly already did,

were never far from reach

we knew!

we did!

i hid!

A creature doesn't know that it's called a creature. It doesn't know that its food is called an acorn. It doesn't know that its home is called a tree. Yet it goes on being a creature, eating acorns, and living in trees nonetheless.

everything is so much

with my eyes, my fingers, and tongue

my skull, my root, my chest, and lung

to do what I do

while knowing what I know

is an awkward dance

an anonymous apropos

take all of your pieces with you

and bury them beneath a tree

when its branches bring forth hearty fruit

you’ll know the why of all the holes in me

these spaces are not empty

if light would spill through

illuminating a future

turning old seeds new

hand to heart

my fingers disappear

covered in white letters:

“I was here”

grit deep

more coarse the friction

art is a myth,

a useful fiction

careful not to bother

the glass mask nod and weather

or sand-rubbed pink flesh

the requisite horse and tether

i was yours

and you were mine

the way unveiled

not meant to pine

was and is,

a fault line snake

candle and sun

a not so subtle quake

she was oil that tasted like honeywater

no ice, no straw

i was a brick with wings

no temperance, all flaws

i was the kite

she was the kite-flyer

the string was missing

i knew what she meant in her thirst

cracked lips whispering for water and wine;

what was necessary and what was needed

I hadn’t the blood to satisfy her

she needed a murder scene

i needed an IV

you are an animal

before you knew anything

you were an animal

raw and ravenous

thirsty and sore

then there were books

and music

and organized war

then gospels and guides

to tell you how for

you first were an animal

then something more

i once carried with stone arms

a delicate and silken thing

and probed with spiked fingers

its tissue tempered skin

taught to perfect timbre

for the rhythmic pounding of fists

pumping and grinding,

slipping and sliding

with cuffed and anemic wrists

not everything that is soft is lush

lips to lips, crush to crush

the sweet, surrendered hush

the stop and go,

the ebb and flow,

the dance of stone and plush

there is a magnolia in my front yard

that i will miss

when i leave for the swamp;

the reptile’s kiss

her branches are strong

her flowers are tender

i want to become her

when my body surrenders

she’s the saint of patience

and ever moving on

i will miss her dearly

when my tread is gone

(yes, this is about you)

playing games with posture

an innocent start

pleasure, pain - our bodies

and ruddy pounding hearts

the meat of our lips

the S of our spines

i am yours

and you are mine

steadily we walk

and supersede the flesh

to a healthy stock

and a downy nest

I am on a cloud

mid-shin deep in pillows

for what it’s worth

a blue whale’s spray tickles my feet

and he fancied himself an artist

made of masculine prance and quiet sputters

as if smoke-ring talent where a trait to be admired

by the works of others before he,

by the tear and thickness of artists’ hands

those lines riversnaked through canyons of depth

and his was atop those mountains, carving the faces of great men

how’s a smoke-ring volcano, boy?

how’s the lament in the Virginian’s eyes?

that brow so subtle in statement,

as if to speak,

“an artist tells no lies”