Friday, February 29, 2008


pack and get dressed before all hell breaks loose
before clocks are thrown at walls or stolen
before your B movie roles
make coasters for repeated cups of black
your bladder trembling in reruns
where children play in backgrounds backwards
hoping you choke on your joke

show me awake as i want to see it
bright blurs in the first seconds of day
adjoining beds parked in parallel
pass forever in space, stars wash into gray
watercolors and soapstone
don't lose your nerve
i can't do this alone

motorways move us in clover leaf outlines
blessing the foot that crushed your shell
burned gaps in chemical reactions
pain cracked pressure points
and bloomed like a firebird
swallowing everything in one bite
doors pried open by the jaws of life

bridge to the middle of afterwards
treasure island, yerba buena
missions and handfuls of orange clay
coastal highways blurred by fog
escape is just through the valley
through poppies and cristatum folds
the slopes sucking dry after the cold.

hills stumble to the foot of the plain
as raindrops chatter with tempered glass
lightning dictates still life flashes
stored by wind witch and saguaro
snatches of lost time beaten by blows
my neck cramps looking over my shoulder
your rear view recedes as fast as we go

i watched the back of promises
heads rolled in long hauls of shame
desert hordes of torn clouds leaking darkness
windowless homes with open porches
corrugated roofs, corroded holes
i've driven black ribbons tied like robes
banded tighter, cleaving hills,
clasping gas stations like glossy jewels

this is my final alarm, my last close
dreams tangled with lost sheets
scratch woolen blankets
the open window only blows cold
snow dusts the still streets and roofs
the landscape sheds skin flakes
clustered on the edge of cracks
iron dirt frozen in the wind chill

the map unfolded traces veins
back to the heart like skid marks on the road
boxes hold only enough to be carried
loads of paper words crumpled and folded
our sum totals divided once more
fescue grass points through white flecks
green fingers showing us where we go
as they hold broken bottles.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

the drift

plastic keys try to please me
at my metal desk by boxes of energy
the lcd placates in crisp pixelation
electromagnetic paranoia signals in waves
printers exhale toner and ozone
the phone blinks red codes saying,
"you know where you are with"
hamfisted emotions punching holes
reasons and opinions stolen from the road

at the metal wayside you wet your sleeve
then you left (or did i leave?)
hammering discontent repeatedly
in flexing muscles, twitching signs
smithing warm iron into edges, sparks
preparing to point the tip at me,
shield in place, marked with crosses
a mace hanging off your hip

my totality is left in young feet
some walking upside down under a summer lamp
faces blurred by the watery heat
my voice just an echo
vibrating in their memories

some days i try to grow wings
look down on roads like brittle veins
where metal blood pumps and pushes
gray with smoke from the crucible heart
cold clouds part as i drift past

i visit plots where old houses stood
their smashed walls now dust
to be swept up in clumps under the rug
afternoons spent trusting
questions thrust in naked revelation
become cold slides used only for dissection

in the evenings on the oversized sectional
separated by digital noise
digital remorse
we drift downstream
lights dimmed
children deaf in their sleep
you snoring under faux fur
me holding the remote
purple cushions sliding loose
sliding slowly to the floor
while i fold vertical distance with my eyelids