new poem

Left Of Shamrock

came to
the window, colder, earlier
there were others with
certified colors, pamphlets
of local knowledge,
turned left, transported by
bus, bullets through
the lobby, from the ledge
they watched us
incinerate the evidence, you
were tired, fingers over
the electric fence,
frightened, four clicks
from the warehouse district,
jumped the guard rail,
fire from the quarters, two
miles left, stomach
full of capsules, skinned my
knee nearby, ears
stationed to constant ringing,
and sirens calling from
somewhere else.

new poem

Melina

dropped their flashlights, morning
happened, slunk out the van,
your tiny hand, scabbed, tracked,
limply clutching your
mother’s silver flask, shaken awake,
we fled the Emporium,
blacked out in Naples, blood on
your sneakers, pockets
full of Crystal, night turned
red, you let go of him, lost
through weirder subdivisions,
stucco dens of
pill-snatching pre-teens, your
brothers and sisters, your
pin-eyed minions, found you
again near the church,
eyes all wrong,
pulled you up, brushed your
skull, moved on,
cut through Sorrento Woods
into the Campus, hid under
the bleachers until
they saw us, ran far through
unfamiliar pastures, ran for
hours, woke up, tied up,
locked in the neighbor’s
shed, saw you
near, smiling,
and something heavy
was lifted.

new poem

"Biscayne"

This morning, pacing,
I understood the importance
of basic things.

If there was nothing
to distract us we'd all
be taken by a
rapid darkness.

The fact is that each second
has in it the potential
for death's arrival.

Earlier,
I made a few phone calls.
I was in a state of panic
because there was a man,
a savage vigilante, chasing me
with his machete.

The truth is,
he's always chasing me
but I only let others
know occasionally.

Please, do not contact the authorities.

I should use this time
to apologize to anyone
still waiting for me
to call them. I'm sorry
for hiding, it's only a
defense mechanism.

I would go outside
but

trees and water and
the intricacy of nature
remind me only of a
beautiful girl
who is incapable of
loving you back.

Here, in the back,
I can see the driver
dozing. Maybe he's on
too much of something.
Either way, he's forgotten
where we're going
and I'm not compelled
to tell him. He swerves
right, corrects himself,
then swerves left.

Half of me knows
that when we crash
we will land unsuccessfully
and be eaten alive by vultures.

In the morning, rotting,
we will understand the importance
of much more than
basic things,
and maybe then,

under the wreckage,
I'll be over it.

new poem

"December 11th, 3:55 am"

I stood by the door, half-open,
trembling, listening to
you make noise in there
with him.

I knew you better when
your hair was shorter and
a different color, when
your head was full of smoke
and my belly full
of downers.

I often wonder why I
feel pain in both of
my shoulders, but then
I remember
that my body is full of poison
and that I fell off the sofa.

Sophia, I am withered and
beaten by your infernal wisdom.

These frostbitten urchins
are all my children, and I
have been hiding in my room
for as long
as time has bloodied them.

There is also a painting
of birds behind the desk
of Dr. Richardson.
My poor mother sent me
to him

because she thought I
was going to kill myself.

Dr. Richardson says that
every person is like a puzzle
with missing pieces, and that
some people are missing too
many pieces
and it's his job
to find those pieces and
help his patients put
together their own unique
puzzle.

Being with Dr. Richardson
makes me want to
swallow all of my
mother's klonopin
and wake up in a
foggy heaven

with all of my dead dogs.

ten favorite albums of 2009 (no order)

Top To Bottom:

Necrophobic - Death To All

Nudge - As Good As Gone

Blut Aus Nord - Memoria Vetusta ii: Dialogue With The Stars

To Kill A Petty Bourgeoisie - Marlone

Fever Ray - S/T

The Ruins Of Beverast - Foulest Semen Of A Sheltered Elite

Katharsis - Fourth Reich

Bloody Panda - Summon

Zola Jesus - The Spoils

Glorior Belli - Meet Us At The Southern Sign

new poem

Residential Doubles

we woke to shrill lashes
of parental static and stayed still
until I crept into your mother's
pharmaceutical pantry for a few
more handfuls. It was

summer when the walls were
too thin to not spy on eachother, when
her pleasure arrived in sharp cries
through the hall and into my room and
into my arsenal. They found us

passed out at the
Shiloh Recreation Center, and
according to mirrors, we were older,
still skating the broken diameter of
a non-city spent under
spells of syrup and ether, past
echoes of other nights, names
not remembered, plaza to plaza
before cutting through the Health Park
on the way to your house. By the time

I zeroed out in Osprey,
you'd already forgotten me, and
life became a series of
unanswered phone-calls, some of
which make some of me still
feel guilty for forgetting you
not entirely. For weeks,

I hid in garbage bins and crashed
through fences, into backyards where
stepdads scrambled for reefer,
shirtless and full of anger, outside,
where we would duck in through the back
and watch
sisters act like sisters
before settling on poppers,
and later, again, I became
your shoulder until it was
time to go, until she

tripped over an uncoiled hose
and hurt her skull and hated me
for the rest of her life.