Tuesday, December 22, 2015

the necessity of pain and fear

beautiful and high in the
pure white light of the sun and
never anything to eat but
broken glass

never anything to break
but promises
and then the small white flowers
that blossom where the
pieces fall

the filth that we
bathe our children in

the men of god who would
have us beg for more

who would have us lose
all sight of joy

Saturday, December 19, 2015


in the dark, considering
time as an abstract
you and i lost in the forest of meaningless symbols
the bleeding horse, lost in someone else's city
sunwashed and wasted



Saturday, December 12, 2015

like fire

thought maybe the
blood would begin to
run backwards once the
war was over but
it didn’t
thought surrender would
earn us mercy
but no
the children were lined up and
shot beneath tattered white flags,
their bodies dumped in the river,
their mothers raped and then
butchered, and do you
remember the year?
was it before you were born?
after we died?
do you remember the priests
and their magic wands,
their answers that answered
nothing at all?
found you naked behind the trailer
with your wide open eyes
and quicksilver wrists
and I told you there that the
baby would never have my name
told you that the dogs would
say whatever they had to
to get in between your legs
let you find out for yourself
that being weak in the
civilized world would
never buy you any mercy

Wednesday, December 09, 2015

blood in the spaces between what we say and what we mean

crows in an empty field

not the idea
but the fact of it

the sky with a
beginning and an end

the earth moving
beneath your feet and thick with
the bones of indians and


whatever day it is in
whatever year
and all of the unpaid bills that
keep you tied to this life

all of the people you've hurt
who'd like to see you dead

the names you've forgotten and
the lovers you've betrayed
and the trees all bare

the sound of the freeway

the smell of cold engines
going to rust

of the rivers filled
with oil and sludge

america at this exact moment

a woman beaten unconscious
and left in the closet of a burning house
and the simple fact that I've
outlived cobain

have outlived christ and
that I refuse to die like pilate

and what about this
eighteen year old girl naked
except for a string of pearls?

how many wars are you
willing to wage just to own her?

not action
but the act of demanding it
from others

all of these young men shot dead
for reasons that have more
to do with money than freedom

all of these songs with
words but no meaning

it was never enough
just knowing how to hate

Friday, December 04, 2015


drinking yr
but i’m sorry i
confused yr
smile w/ prayer

i’m sorry for
yr sister’s

for the baby
waiting to be
found in an
empty apartment

kept calling my
my name, but
i was already