lucifer has kind eyesblood ran like milk & honey in the promised land,
washing over your feet like rivers.
you thought to yourself, this is hell.
& you saw the demons getting drunk off of your sins,
smiles wide, laughter loud.
you'd always thought they'd have claws,
but you saw then that their hands are even softer than yours,
& much less bloody.
you realized, we do all the dirty work for them.
their cackles rung in your ears,
crackling through the air,
& you wondered what on earth you did to deserve this,
as if you weren't standing knee-deep in an ocean of all your crimes.
mother's skinning gingerand i've become so bitter.
i'm brimming with vengeance and nowhere to stab it,
every slash and broken line just another tilt toward
madness / so look, love (haven't i said that before?)
i don't write about god and the only form of
kisses i give are fearful touches to crystal's forehead
and napkins stained with waxberries and wine.
the concept of spring is just too damn dirty; i miss the
eyes i had in winter. better to shiver and have enough
plans to smile than lie still with the static and music.
between dishes and worry and wind-snapped laundry,
my ideas tangle with hair at the end of the broom,
the men on television and ruin and despair...
i don't think in lyrics anymore.
"It’s not enough to say the heart wants what it
wants. I think of the ravine, the side dark with pines
where we lounged through summer days, waiting for
something to happen; and of the nights,
consumerand the sage
on my windowsill almost
so did i but
still, we breathe
i’ve wrapped a
flag around my wounds
and it’s made of
people like me it
absorbs me, it’s as if
i am the apple juice i drink
in place of the veuve clicquot
my mother has become and
even though she isn’t french
it consumed her too
stepping stoneswhen you wander in the woods, look for the hidden trails.
there is more to life than the path carved out for you:
every single step you take is one that can lead you somewhere you've never been,
if you'll let it.
listen for the running water:
sometimes the earth holds onto her secrets until the right person comes along.
& yeah, maybe you're terrified;
maybe you would rather plant your feet where you are because it feels safer.
but the truth is that the only way you'll ever see the future is if you walk there.
a look at the world.think: ceremonies in homes of countries without power,
without rain / rains drowning cities in their swallow
/ rains erasing evidence of life / footsteps missettled /
how someplace else / same time / the sun bakes
/ a different kind of wave / cells mutate
to cancer /
think: a breath, another faints / life given,
stolen / life confounding the meaning of matter /
historic fatalities, a pattern / historic evidence of the matter of meaning
and wonder / so much wonder / and so i wonder
the need to upset the balance of space / our own matters
/ the need to faux-feed our displacements /
a line of snow / needle / toke /
sex fetish / game
think: life a historic decay
a balance / suspended orbit of night and day / life, if chosen:
meaningful / mad / blimp of an eternal?
dream #5what i want is
to harness the wind
to give you something you couldnt get
to have you indebted to me
to be a collection of deserts
to have been honest from the start.
spitting pearls into your lap
run ragged against you
i've been trying to say--
luscious foolish sick
in gethsemane i have half a body
and no heart at all.
when i look up from my bed
alone and thanatophobic
you are there like thin light out of a dark moon
strange and efferverscent
my rigid heartbreak Christ
more or less unstoppable,
i might as well have handed you your crucifix
and said carry it.
except you would never have listened--
i venerate your laug
green chalk fingersmoon peeking through the blinds
a glimpse of hidden clavicle
over green felt
with a run stocking
mascara heavying my eyes
I blink deep
remember good times (I think)
leave too much tip for a glass bottle
laugh with too warm a face
sway to the pulse too loud
your face lined in concentration
I sip vodka cranberry with lipstick stains
you hit the ball in the socket
& we go
irisi press honeysuckle into the spaces between my knuckles so that when i punch you,
you won't taste the blood; you'll just taste the wildflowers.
& yeah, i might knock all your teeth out, but daisies will grow back
in all the spots your bones used to be.
trust me, i'm doing you a favour;
pain makes you look prettier. broken & beautiful is the hot new thing.
now you'll cry pollen instead of tears, & boys will fall all over you.
they'll bring you buttercups & stumble over their words when they try to talk to you.
& when you die, everyone will cry & bury you in bleeding hearts instead of soil,
because they can't bear to cover you in dirt.