28 March 2012

Advice From The Rain

Night robes the rain in black, and so
the drops must speak 
about their hidden inner silverness
to the golden-throat frogs
who are raising the sky roof tonight
Maybe rain drops can explain 
the colour of falling to me
and how to shine on the way down
That would be nice because
I've been looking for a way 
to tell you about this fall I'm taking
this fall I'm taking again because I can't stop
tripping on you

19 March 2012

Spring Clean Me

I am making piles inside
I see I know I can decide

Yes to this
flashing rotating disco-ball yes
No to that
throaty echoing robin-song no
The maybes are like arctic summers
colorful, overflowing, and ruthless
The maybes are riotous, beautiful and cruel
but they’re over so fast
They don’t have much of a chance
when I practice kicking my ass so sweetly
in the way I've always always wanted
And it feels so much
cleaner, and not going away
And it feels like 
this is something I can rely on
Unleashed yesses and faithful nos
drum a steady dripping beat
of water
from the eyes
Eyes are only a bypass
off heart's roaring highway
Eyes know how to let them all pulse out,
so here they are and they're on a roll:
heart's heat
heart’s blood
and heart’s knowing
making new, steaming tracks
down a face turned to the fire within

15 March 2012


My face is standard-issue
and out of it my two typical eyes stare at you 
And I only have two arms
and they hold things
like dirty dishes small stones
small hands and lists of rivers to cross
There are other signs of normalcy
too laborious to name -
anyway you see them all,
so I don’t need to
I’m not sure you can see the heart-cave, though
I don’t know if the crimson drawings on its walls are ordinary or not
and I don’t know if its tenancy will interest you
Still, I will tell you
Hearts have passed through me
leaving their efforts and their ash
I regrow them when I absolutely must
like a starfish who lost a ray to a violent crab
My first heart was a nub like a spring crocus
It just melted away and the heart-puddle it left
evaporated and came out of my mouth 
like a breath on a late-frost day
It hurt more than you’d think
They say your heart is always the size of your fist
How big could it have been?  I was only five
My second heart crumbled
detonated inward
a dangerous building
old already
so bleached and beautiful
haunted by failed attempts to make a go of it
The efficiency experts got it
They knew how to deal with it
a targeted operation
the dust rolled through my veins
making way for militarist moves
of feral teenagers
My third heart was a fist
and of course it was holding on
and of course it lost its grip
you know the drill
My fourth heart
well, my fourth heart took
As it stretched and moaned and yawned its way into existence
my fourth heart reached out its red tongues 
licked the insides of my ribs
decided to take root
to take some knocks
Fourth heart chose to take whatever it was handed
Fourth heart knows to always take the shape that is needed
Yesterday its anemone face
all green and waving and soft
was open to the current and 
dancing in the waves
Today its wits have fled
and so it moves down into its liquid habit
of squeeze release squeeze release
and waits