Air pollution

Peer between my breasts and through my sternum

And you will not find a heart but a furnace

A massive, ominous, belching furnace with an aortic valve

Made of sturdy iron, atrium walls of char and black

It's a storehouse of un-meltable, plastic spines

Strewn in yellowish, mangled globs across the bottom of the bowl

Non-committal destruction, polluting the oxygen that it breathes

The fire, that is, hungry and full of mischief

5.10.16

Drown on, my love

Her hand links with that of the storm

For the great drowning begins with one swallow

Only nimble fingers can reach down her fragile throat

And wrench the former firmness of her depths

Yet on she trains and teaches "how to slay me"

As if murder needed to be taught of one so weak

Her voice is eaten by the gluttonous whirlwind

And the grins of greedy men prevail upon her flesh

She is soft, every inch of her drips with the sensual

Beauty possessed by nocturnal predators

Her love is a sticky mire of her own creation

For the stars within her a silenced by her filth

So that none may ask to hear her silver song

Pliable clay path bears timid foot-marks leaving

A trail and guide and hiding flight

To stranger lands and emptier loves

Drown on, my love, and sing no more

The tryst says "access denied" which doesn't mean what you think

ta-tat ta-tat ta-tat

blood rushes, red, she blushes

frightened by the hushed tones

of desires unadmitted to the mind

blind

to what is wholeness

she breaks herself in pieces

so she can share

her focused and strange beauty

twisted into the knots of her spine

Cracked vertebrae drip with wine

Crimson with dread

She eats the bread leavened with dead yeast

her tears yet remain in the deep, hidden pools of her

irises bloom late when left in vacuous beds

so it is her fate to find strength

from soles atop pain buried six feet underneath

every wanton drop of saliva and hot breath

and her breast heaves from the suffocating weight

Of her false, wheezing hatred for weakness

Fallow

The sky weeps when it sees, helplessly

The browns of forests who wish they were

Evergreen

Hope can never grow for the apathetic shade of

The dead leaves on the soil

Perucho

Su voz, fuerte y dulce me llama

Castigando las olas y el viento

Mis ojos encontraron a suyos

Mandandome confiar, rezar, y morir

El verde del mar enojado entrapa mis pies debiles

Pero una cuerda de luz y affecion me protege

Hasta que la corto con miedo

Ahora, no veo nada mas que la muerte

La tumba del agua negro

La sombra llena los valles de la tormenta exquisita

Y grito, desesperado, ahogando

Entonces, la mano, su mano brillante

Me agarra, me arrastra

Nunca faltara, la mano de mi senor

Limerick

Whimsy is flimsy, oh no!

It cannot withstand

The stub of a toe

The ripples are tripled for show

Fortify

I am a beating heart

Exposed and bleeding

Oxygen outside my river

Burns and dries my flesh

I pour hot plastic into my

Aorta; hardening arteries

Making them strong, depriving

The choking, blue veins of

Inward breaths, pulmonic

Ingressive, aggressive suffocation

Blacksmith

The crafstman defined by his craft

Begins to look upon it in loathing

Because it is a fire-forged mirror

That forces, draws his gaze

To see himself in truth