Naked Poetry

I’m like that one birthday candle that won’t abandon it’s flame; I’m like that one birthday candle that won’t accept the flame.

She’s got the water in her eyes—Thirty-three radiation treatments proud. Everything is so real here – I do not get it. The kids are so fleshy and precious, and They haven’t any moments. The grass is so soft and one whole color. There Are kids in cages – smiling. I walked in a lap and caught a bubble inside My hands. Felt like Nothing. There were wrestling over a god –damn penny. The kids. There we...

You are blonde like sun hit you. I know there’s rage in you somewhere. But you’d never go looking for it. It will come about when love defeats you. For now—play a lovely game of chess. The numbers help. The movement helps. Silence happens. Like glass versus marble. Find me after checkmate. Celebration will be in order and we can celebrate arm through measly arm. I have already chosen a volume. I h...

| To Frida Söderdahl | There is this instant where I am thrown into the air. I wasn’t prepared for this. No one is, it’s magic. There is this instant where performers are thrown into the audience and back into their magic. I look at my friend who knew voices were music  before being marked beauty. who knew people who dance with nothing but their toes. And when asked why they are not them and they...

If emeralds came in grey, and were layered and cat-like and patient and reliable and worth-it-all and omniscient and rapturous and okay and dying and living and nervous and pacing and dangerous, well, those would be your eyes.

You write like a poem sounds.

You wanna know what I liked!?

Watch a woman breathe and you’re born again. Nothin’ like it. Everything stops for beauty. I watched them.   They brought the sea to the ground, just like the original plan! One for the crashes! Better than a thunderstorm at nighttime. Moved. Completely was I moved, to tears was I moved. You would have enjoyed the Effrontery. You would have laughed with the madness. Nodded like an angel. You Would...

You worry you don’t have a language With your whole body of Passion.

Easy Rest. Lucky. Fortunate fortune. I PASSED THE TEST. With crooked candles in messy mirrors with deaf direction in the woven west. My woven west. With your faulty faucets and your Healing Hell I can’t stand it I need a perfect hero. Hero hapless and naked nearness in the summer season beach in a bottle looking lonely I’ll be breaking budgets Robbing Reno now I have an open office. I am young you...

Prognosis: she’s a goddamn liar. And a proficient one at that. Look, son, It’s all in the squint, LOOK! Don’t bother moving, she’s already inside you laughing like a time-bomb inside the joker–like potent young love using “yes” words to form acts of violation that can only be seen by lovers and by lovers who mean it I mean really mean it–guaranteed to die alive, expecting everything from the retur...

She floats. Even at the restaurant where she works nights and some days everyone else is greased like pigs and piglets but there she is behind the counter--floating. She’s a cure (the perfect cure) and hour-after burns that could have been serious but never rose to the occasion. She’s got those, been there, done that, sort of freckles. The kind that are scattered about, just a few, perfectly strew...

I am a sad sad bluebird; she is fashion. A visionary beauty-unit. She also writes words. But they do not look like My words. Better that way. Hey! Two Whole Halves.     I get it now.         I understand now.                   Perfect.

When people say, “So tell me about yourself?”

I didn’t lose it until she left. I keep photos of the people I’ve loved to see if there’s a pattern. I expect more out of morning than I do out of night. I’m a dying animal. I like my flesh spread and my neck choking, and I like my eyes on you. Fixed. Slaughter-watch. Bite your love in me. Throw me into your river, and I will swim with every part of me. I never really told the truth until that mom...

I’m in class now. I stare down at the bones in my hands. I think forty pounds are now gone. I’ve been running lately. It is solitude. It is nervous. They are so bony. I sit and search, trying to find traces of my parents in them. So far I haven’t found anything. But I will keep searching. Perhaps that is why my mom wanted me to play the violin. So I'd use my hands, so I would think about them. I r...

Run to me, run me to the part where you become my lover and friend—-I will promise you with the precision of the needle in your eye that devoured betrayal bottom to top like the sky when it’s handled perfectly, a messy blue of perfect, like the eyes of an enraged goddess. Me? I would have given my sun, my brightest cry–in the wilderness in front of every tree and it would sound like dreams where y...

The baby’s hands are wrapped around My finger. Does she know how safe I am— now? Now that she’s here, now that I know her I’ll say: Dearest daughter, I am complete with surrender I’ve never held treasure but I’ll never need to now. And if you promise to shoot me I’ll Leave this denial—manic, depressed Draw two lines on opposite sides Of the country and You’ll find me in the middle between manic an...

Listen here, mad girl. Don’t you live where the walls Watch you never eyes shut All is open doorways into your Marrow afraid of the cancer in Your socks sometimes you are Silly sometimes you are not Sometimes you are the villain Other times you’re the dot In the middle of the target That’s on the back of my neck Asking how can I get all the Way around to her Sometimes, I feel the pain in three pla...

Love wrapped me up in a faceless sculpture of fraud. Fraudulent faces asked me what I wanted if it and I said just a bump.the next day I woke up in an ancient burial ground home of some Egyptians couldn’t help but think I used to rule these people I used to be a queen. But that was in another sphere... one more year, and I’ll be opened up for love, both hands hanging freely forevermore that is wha...

Give me a heart attack, call it a birthday.

Keep me out of the light. Keep me out of the light.

So yes, I am willing to forget about the ocean if it means I get to remember you.

You looked really pretty today.

Let’s go!