Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Clouds Fill the Night

The blues bleed into orange
behind the flowering of white as
the minutes hang loosely between us--
we stand beneath.
I want to wrap my mouth around you
and breach that space between;
to drink at the sea beneath your sky--
we hover there.
As the clouds reach down into the calm,
we fall back into that tenuous space where
all the grasping in the world can't
bring you closer.

Sunday, October 30, 2005


Outside the window, stacked in lines,
the air hums alive and the
pavement sings with the blood of others;
in this we travel
the barrel, the mechanism,
pointed at us from afar.
We sing the skies' fires,
the body moves continuous
as a ballet or an imagined
spatial transformation.
Sing these songs, these
hymns of the dead,
the ghosts wander hungry
and there is not enough
to share.

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Two Fragments

Leviathan, my companion,
this sweet abyss
probing with its tongue
my depths--

someplace safe, within;
the warm place amidst
sorrow. When the rain
stopped, it left scars.

Thursday, July 28, 2005

those incandescent moments
that hover like ghosts
between us--
those brief minutes of
transcendence when it all dissolves
into moonshadows, smiling;

those incandescent moments,
those hovering ghosts
lingering in the space between.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Still Life with Cigarette and Whiskey

     Atonal and absent, she sat

     with a cigarette and whiskey;
in the recesses of dark corners

     lit by a single ember.

     I watch
as she sips her fire, paying her

     fingers careful attention as

     they slide across a glistening cylinder.

A soft amber encased in glass

in slow burning sips I forget and

     lose my sense of self—

          become a part—

     as the smoke blurs my vision,

     I try to look beyond.
Words lose their sense of purpose

     in this place
in rapid conversations between strangers

     alternating between contexts—

          coming apart—

     as lips licked pursue other venues,

     I try to look beyond.

Sunday, July 03, 2005

Disabled Landscape

four gold-rimmed shot glasses of absinth
pinpricks of digital noise sprinkled over an elongated falsetto croon
a smeared glass stare with headphones
tar splatter and red acrylic
gathering onlookers in blue jeans and sneakers
leather jackets and slacks pass by the window
socks pink sheath feet tucked into black suede
a momentary lapse in sound
those often missed reflections
standing proud like an erection in the sunlight
a feast of eyes, a satchel of tongues
a wave or eye flutter
congenitally malformed function of gender-typing
face traced by lightbulbs
a tepid laugh and a concealed grin.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Half a sonnet

a lost fragment of thought
strung along by a wandering mind
the cold uninspired hand wrought
with guilt over unspent time
strung along by a wandering hand
laughing in disgust at time left languid
with burgeoning guilt over futures began
and lost fragments of what’s already been said.

This is still a work in progress.

In other news, July's Poetry Now is still at press but will be available this week sometime. It's a great issue with poetry from Art Beck, Mildred Hunt, BL Kennedy, Kathy Kieth, Arthur Winfield Knight, Joyce Odam, Bonnie Rollin, Pearl Stein Selinsky, Philip A Waterhouse, and Diane Webster; plus, Carol Frith reviews Kathy Kieth's Why We Have Sternums. It's a great issue. You can download it from www.sacramentopoetrycenter.org next month...

And you haven't done so already, check out Kathy Kieth's blog: http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/