poem: music/video/love

we are here for the unknown, for the possibility of falling in love with people who were nothing just one day ago: boys with odd dark smiles, mars and venus colliding when our eyes touch, the Bold and the Dazzling coming in wet flushes, in roses wrapped and snapping. we are here for the aesthetic,… Continue reading poem: music/video/love

poem: love or lust? saint or whore?

the moths on the backs of my hands will not answer me; they sit mute and flutter at the traffic. once again, I've made the wrong decision: whose idea was it, to come here and wait for him, to run a waterfull over the chairs and tables to let him see the desperation, the dark-blood… Continue reading poem: love or lust? saint or whore?

poem: crush

you were not supposed to do this to me. this is not fair, this is not what I wanted. please get out of my mind and stay brilliant somewhere else. Don't you understand? Everywhere you are and I am, there is so much in the air, I cannot breathe: Color still chokes. soft death is… Continue reading poem: crush

poem: summer fruit in the city

so is this what it takes? we are not meant to speak of the inner life, the girls falling like apples; it should all be chaste: small stories of people kissing in stations and camps, her glory fluttering under your hands, her becoming all raw and red. you thought you were a god because she… Continue reading poem: summer fruit in the city

poem: James Dean and the Savages

now that he is gone the dreams and the sex and the writing are all pathetic. she was going to change the world with poetry; she had such plans.   but he left the room in a red jacket; she is listening to Marina and The Diamonds.   In the end, she is the one… Continue reading poem: James Dean and the Savages

poem: pastel lust

you walked by and i, sitting in jeans and tee-shirt was suddenly a virgin in a field, my legs open over grass my fruit open and falling the daisy heads indented into my thighs, small red faces, matching mine; can you hear the water falling, the girl becoming?  

poem: girl waiting alone for her lover, at dusk

I am watching the trees catch Darkness, the cupped hands, the branches, all shaking; feminity is caught tight in the branches, the men are earth and sea and sky.   Night stumbles into the foreground; she is drunk, she watches her enthronement: the earth laid thin, dyed with falling eyes, faded mirth, coughing angels. This… Continue reading poem: girl waiting alone for her lover, at dusk

poem: the third boy (but i swear it’s different this time)

I did not want to be here (again): thinking only and always of where you could be where you will be where I might go and pretend to study, just to feel your small blaze as you walk through the room. it is childish, probably unhealthy; I might justify obsession in the name of love,… Continue reading poem: the third boy (but i swear it’s different this time)

poem: small chronicle of living in my head

silent, silent girls play at depression, play at deep aching wounds: as we really saw battles, as if our mothers died and our fathers went mad; as if we were raped on cement floors outside cities, men standing at the door and sharing cigarettes.   but, really, these girls are too fantastic and too normal:… Continue reading poem: small chronicle of living in my head

poem: how could i be so stupid? but here we are again.

it is his fault: he smiled at me first, stared at me until I looked up and met his eyes; or our gazes danced around, touching, laughing, sparkling, but never meeting. I thought it was only in books that eye contact made the air crackle. I thought I was done falling in love with people… Continue reading poem: how could i be so stupid? but here we are again.