Saturday, July 16, 2011

I Loved Lisa

I loved Lisa because
she listened to everybody
and when she listened
she tilted her head just so
and when she tilted, listening
her chin sloped
an Ivory line to love
We talked, she listened
I loved the line of Lisa's chin.

I loved Lisa because
she carried everything
and when she carried,
she learned,
and when she learned,
her scooped neckline slipped
burnt carmel shoulder
I never tasted
She carried so much
I ended each night imaging
my tongue to her scooped carmel breast bone

I loved Lisa because
she remembered what she could
and she belted Tori Amos, driving
And when she belted, she echoed
like a beacon over the moonlit waters of time

I loved Lisa because
She loved me back
voraciously, greedily she loved me
she devoured me as much as you can devour
a friend

The closet doors amplified
the bass of our longing
Had they opened, it would've been deafening.
Had we caressed, we'd have burnt, branding
Had our nipples brushed something subatomic would have detonated
Had I reached inside Lisa, like I wanted to
I doubt I'd ever have come back out.

Sunday, October 24, 2010



you see beauty here
her smooth, white face
flesh bone-like firm
wide blue eyes
you see beauty here

I see a corpse
Her smooth, white face
flesh bone-like firm
wide blue eyes
I see a corpse

it's not unacceptable
this correlation
between beauty and death
in art

except this is an ad
and I'm wondering

what is being bought
what is being sold
what is the price

Tuesday, October 5, 2010


If I write If he speaks If he paints If she strums If they sing If she breathes deep enough and long enough and hard enough If we fuck all day If he learns to pray If we squat to see the children's eyes If we answer their questions with deeper questions regardless of their color If Sundays are sacred If everyday is sacred If we stop buying the illusion of time If his spirit her spirit their spirit our spirit has time to breath


We will grieve


We will apologize


We will forgive


We will celebrate

(the only natural progression from celebration is revolution)

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Dear Jaycee Lee--

On how many levels have we failed you?
We released him and this isn’t the first way
We raised him in a world that has ignored
A million screams like yours
A world deeply confused about pleasure and violence
A world of windswept unheeded warnings
Rising rapidly to the ether
Like escaped helium balloons

One of two is true…
He received messages that condoned his wayward desires
Trivialized his perversions
Making light of youth and possession in language and song
Taking ownership of what is not yours
Girlhood at once worshipped and defiled


He emitted cries for help here and there
Somebody taught him math and
Noticed the angled depth of his boyhood eyes too sharp
His spirit slip to rock and arrow, somebody
Saw his bloom wilt toxic

Both, maybe.

Maybe he was made, too, into
The manifestation of somebody’s darkness
Losing, too, his self, his God, his light

One thing is certain…

Many, many brows raised
Above eyes that looked away.

Many, many ears turned cool pillows
To muffle your cries.

Still raise
Still turn



It is the simple turning toward
That creates the power to maintain
A change.

It is the simple turning toward
That moves the light.

Turn with me.

"They Shouldn't Have Been in the Park at That Hour"

Woman, Resist
The pine-tipped night
And moonlit waters

Woman, Rescind
The shadows you grasp
Like a child

Woman, Recant
The the tell-tale dewdrops
Nestled like shame
Between your toes

(Safety is the carrot
Rape, the stick)

Lock your doors
Twice fall not for men
Who may hit walk not
Alone and if you need
Night air like a drug if
The moon screams your name
In ancient tongue CRACK
The window STOOP
To the crack woman STOOP
And crane SUCK and fan
The night air to you Woman this
is your Responsibility


What Do Lesbians Do in Bed?

It’s as if you’ve always had
Meat and potatoes
Which filled, or offered
A plate of white stacked buttered bread
Where it didn’t

When one day

In front of you
An exquisite platter, heaped and parted
With colors and textures that
Surprised and exceeded
Every time

Upon your tongue
The hard dark bitter of an olive
Unto you the olive’s patience
Bitter delight
Windy countryside’s layered buffet

Upon your tongue
The softest French cheese
Open soft-mouthed sounds and
Sweet grasses, hosts
To love’s bare-bottomed press and
Wildflowers’ shameless quiver

Carrots, potatoes, radishes, and
All things rooted in the sassy snap of
Mother Earth
Unto you the sass
Unto you the snap
Unto you the dirty honesty of their uprooting

Cream, spun of all the dizziness
Of a thousand adolescent kisses
To separate for you the best to offer
You the top
Should you tire of the bottom

Pink, fleshy salmon
Taste of before the before the before
Before that. Salmon blue that dreamt
the big bang
Eternity, to you
A toast

Meats tenderized and cured
Smoked salty like what’s always left behind
Where something wonderful has been
Death, upon your tongue,

Fruits that seek the fleshy wet confines
Of your mouth with childish innocence, each
Particular in its burst and in its

You leave full
Her scent upon you
Everything given,
Nothing taken

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Immersed in You

When I reach inside of you
Deeper, deeper when
You open to receive me
Wider, wider when
I close my eyes to all
Turn my heart toward your

I feel everything
Everything that exists is
Where you open

Divinity has sculpted
Her perfect self-portrait
Within your womb

My access?
The deepest privilege
Finest opportunity
Most delicate of graces

My spirit stoops and sighs
Wet with gratitude