Viewing entries tagged
poetry exercise

sluice

i was born to chill you

lastingly

you’re good at this,

i think post-rinse

my own cold surge turns me tepid

as your nudity swirls for eternity—

contact quick lingers in my membrane;

the filth i came for—all parts out of my purview

the charge is long and clear at last

black suds

deep scents

mingling with your sliced hair

thick but fair unwanted parts

i am nothing but a puddle

set to drain


dirty hair

blonde strands as venetian blind,

one eye looked out over past the covers,

placed deeply under her chin, almost to a light choke.

decidedly, she opened

 

both eyes into halo admitting slits.

the brown skinned body angled slightly

toward the window made the first moment

of waking sight accosting—

 

intriguing. a tinge of guilt for being voyeuristic

tried to bubble up, as in the way societally trained

people perform manners

with plasticine precision.

 

large and full—deceptively fantastic

bent over, tightened in

accentuated to noteworthy;

all can be plastic when eyes aren't open.

 

‘she’s right, when she has a guy fucking her from behind

they really are in luck,’ she recounts,

closing shut and scoots her own ass

a few inches,

 

her bed to herself

stretches stretches

alarm reset, most likely to be ignored

to set her into a purposeful lazy sense of panic.

 

‘i only feel this way after...’

 

snooze...baggy black dress, deodorant

in sedimentary layers, as too the mascara,

bobby pins, red pens, whatever, showers

have been optional this week.

 

twenty minutes late,

unabashedly related to humidity

and heavyish platforms;

a different dirty monday.

 

'leaves' in reverse

just as you bend for me – i refuse you; cervix closed and low

just as I bend for you my love – backwards on your used, used...[climax]

like a Muslim bending down – you scratch at traditional molds

wind bending its devoted bough – breathing death wasps into velvet bedroom skies

blowing my blood smooth and cold – melting coolness past the rough

wind bending the bough – exhaling dirge

wind shaking the leaves – vibrating each lash

pink streaking the hill – pillow parts winding a willow path

each blank thing begun – clean sheets as erasure

known how to open it – envelope folds tight at the corners

on my soul had I – in my maze inside

have been water – wetness was once

of a work that might – the only job that could

were the author – be a creator

sitting opposite me – parks at the foot of the bed

whether the person – no matter the other

I not know – identity not withstanding

did I know or did – was it sketched or etched

to cover me – under safe weight on exposed skin

for me and made – personalized and sent

filled with bugs made - living crawling sewn in each thread

a nightlike color – if midnight was orange

hidden in it – the stars would hide

men standing in it – men in quicksand

exuded by the three – abundant times redundancy

a green place – a lush reprieve

I saw skulls and then brains – seeking bones and inside

 

- after “leaves” by ariana reines (p.132 in mercury)