Saturday, July 18, 2009


december, january, and all of
the ordinary horrors

sixteen year-old girl drowns her
newborn baby in the toilet

box full of maps

room full of nothing

tried to sustain my anger,
but i couldn’t

there were bills that
needed to be paid

small dogs crawling on their
bellies through shit & filth

potholed roads

you want to drive to the ocean
but can’t get past the hills

it’s a joke told by a man whose
eyes have been gouged out

you laugh with him
or you laugh at him

you find the body in a landfill

flowers push up through
the bones of forgotten saints

all of our darkest dreams
make perfect sense in the
bitter grey light of day

Thursday, July 02, 2009

was kissed by ghosts, was weeping

find the ocean just inches
below the desert's surface &
then wait for rain

this is the kingdom of false prophets

these are the bones of old lovers

no one here
wants to be your friend,
but being an enemy has value

wars cannot be fought
without cowards

children cannot be raped
without the cold embrace of priests

what matters isn't the truth,
but how pretty the
lies can be made to sound

what matters is power

the shame of being poor is a gift
given freely by the rich

houses built by the hands of
beggars can only fall

you will stand naked in
the ruins of everything you've
never owned and wait like a dog
for the kindness of strangers