29 June 2011

June 29

broken links,
phantom visits,
in code, scrambled

by the way,
the dialect,
the jargon
is scrambled,

add a location,
physical shadow,
outline the abandonment,
underline in blue

where fingers stretch
to meet wires,
spliced, multiple digits
are sore

tired keys, letters rubbed
clean, we blindly interpret,
translate, memorize
what truth we fold
in circuits

28 June 2011

June 28

with metrophobia
a headache is an excuse
to leave early
not enough money for a cab

muted television
no telling, just vision
is better than whispering
through pornography
better than draining
the line break of pus

we know more than the traffic
can carry, more than the wires
can vibrate
lacking punctuation we are free
to skip patterns of abuse, misuse

we are free to walk home,
change jingling in heavy pockets
avoiding drivers
grateful for the randomness of rain

22 June 2011

The Teacher

wise words
like the fur
on the deer
by the road

wet cheeks
every night
hating to face
the window
to be horizontal

a rock, an asteroid
by the small
of her back
a push, a burn where
she cannot reach

wise words
the morsel lodged
in her windpipe
wise words
a quill stuck
in a head wound

wise words carved
cursive incision
with long syllables
self-pity, finality
a selfish desire for life

14 June 2011


Template of a storm, clouds
whirling like a fingerprint,
leaving traces of numbers
and letters behind: the traction
of waiting, the rise
and fall of temperature matching
the rise and fall of his chest,
a small quake by the jaw
as it seizes breath.
Love notes are always
too short and dripping.
Old words are drizzle, not hail.