Wednesday, August 19, 2009

i wrote this like nine months ago, i think, and i just came across it while deleting some stuff from my computer. here 'tis

one day, it was time to take the house apart.


first there were vibrations so strong 

the windows sighed, then shattered obligingly.

their panes were removed without sorrow.

then the door, painted white, was kicked in.

it bowed deeply. no splinters. (it knew the time had come.)

the frame was removed without sorrow.

then the spirits came, 

taking the roof away as swiftly as they had brought it in.

the shingles waved and blew kisses as they watched the house fade-

higher and higher they climbed, until the house was but a rogue red balloon,

a single grain of sand on paper,

the first night star.

there was a warm knot of nostalgia, even a lump in the throat. but no sorrow.

then the bricks were taken.

one by one they were removed, and the stories inside them were removed too.

this one is too much time spent at herrick.

this one is sophie.

this one is summer camp realization.

this one is cold feet and hands.

this one is that time you were six years old, on a boat, the time you don't ever talk about.

no sorrow. just dismantling. 

no remorse. just arms flung upward, asking. 


mortar insistently holding on is scraped off.

bricks disseminated, no longer a latticework 

but a clusterfuck of groping valence electrons.

floorboards ripped up with fingernails.

(ravenous doesn't even begin to cover it.)




the foundation. (its the spirits.)


the founDATION.

let the foundation stay. 

if you take that out, the empty space will be just another sad ragged patch of ground.

just another scar on the earth.

just another vacuous hole sucking life from its surroundings.

we don't need more of that here. (there's enough of it in tacoma.)

keep the foundation. 

one day you will build something better,

more beautiful, 

more harmonious.

just wait. keep it. you'll see.

it's not over yet.

you'll see. 

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

sometimes a girl just needs her mind blown

you taste like 
what i imagine i would taste like.
shutter pushed/pulled to catch
floating light, suspended bits of mood 
dam broken, river free at last.
oh yes, this is how it can be!
embrace an estranged feeling 
estranged knowledge always there buried,
yet emerging only when spring comes.
your compass points right at me
brought wind from the north sowing seeds,
warmth from the south whispering to grow
east and west merge here
with the common leaves of our stems.
click click click
fire lit beneath my slight demure
arms flung outstretched
heart open as petals bloom and are eaten.
how did you know my snow needed melting?
that rhythm like a sine wave could have lifted the city.
instead, this is my spring.
you taste like
what i imagine i would taste like...
may the flowers bloom pink and white
may the rain still come.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

dusty table

oh dusty table
how do you hold still those objects
collecting your dust?
how might you,
voiceless breathless inanimate
(less animate, anyway)
discard or eject them?
i imagine you would-
had you not been somehow doused
in the baptismal waters of inertia
destined for all time to relax only when the cynical eye is turned,
the untuned ear tuned out,
the murky muck of perception
has a moment of clarity 
and giggles right back at you.
oh dusty table
how do you hold still?

Monday, March 30, 2009

when i walk
i walk with alms
and though my arms will be covered
i know what lies beneath:
my very own manifest destiny.

wooly sheath, all passive
ye that shall infiltrate
shall know the depth of comprehension,
hang in the air like a spider's thread
sewing the seam
of this world and that-
ye that shall infiltrate
shall see the moon testify.

but too many ants burrow in this hole.
cold, mechanic, hollow-
thorax branded A for Anthill
feelers feeling for what?
groping, needing what?
too busy to run a finger down the seam
check for holes
see if it's straight
(though who cares if it isnt)
take a moment
stay awhile
isn't the night lovely
isn't it wonderous!

so eight legs are content 
creating naught but for herself and splendid selfish gains.
rationale missing
but i think it looks better without one,
don't you?
the moon sees it
chuckles good-naturedly
and shimmers on the dew drops
young and wet
like water babies.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

what to do?
when questions permeate inspiration
clogging the drain like chunks of meat,
filter insertion complete?
what to do? 
when yellow bedroom is too cold for sleep
walls too barren
pillow too shallow
bony knees knocking
blue robe shivering
awake and wondering
what's wrong, where is peace?
wondering, but deep down
just knowing
(as usual). 
what to do?
when solemn, well intentioned digging
by thick warm hands
unearths the most metallic of facts
so solid they break knuckles,
their truth so ungainly
hands consider re-burial,
but newborn truth becomes like baby,
screaming louder if ignored,
no choice but to cradle if knuckles will heal.
what to do?
when eyes are open so wide
you can't see anything
but dynamics?
nothing but transfer, displacement, longing?
nothing but how it is, 
likely will always be?
hmm, i say.
what to do?
girly feet know...
they take me to walden pond
so i can ask my anonymity.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

5 stages

this is dedicated to all those mourning the loss of zachary sieben (1989-2009). zach, you are incredibly loved and sorely missed.

come day, go day, timewarp slow
take me where the oak trees grow
paint my face with rabbit snow
malinger, savor, tread no more.

lay me down on salty bed
lay my comrades head to head
let the ocean fall instead
trace our faces, fall in buckets.

don't be scared, i tell you dear.
justified is every tear.
know there's no time limit here,
just a water well to stare in.

ache my joints creak my bones
sing me songs in sieben tones
to burden or to be alone?
such ripples grief sustains.

Saturday, January 31, 2009


pointe-shoe toes and persistence
elevate her to apple level.
stubborn? no-
just healthy, obstinate curiosity.
grasped at last.
now, anything is possible.
she gazes unto the prize-
blood-red mystery, reflected self
distorted and winking
juicy heart pumping 
stares back. seduction!
not lust-
what a woman this is. 
firm crimson curves encasing the future.
through lips and
mammalian fangs,
through tracts and tunnels
long as life itself
the apple becomes you.
one bite is all it takes.
all or nothing now.
take me or leave me? 
total consumption is perilous 
throw the rest on the ground to rot,
and so will you.
now she knows.

(and they say gemini
is the least introspective!)

i will not rot.
i'll take it. roll up my sleeves
we shall see if i'm cut out for life's dirtiest job.

somewhere, dionysus smiles
twirls his winged staff
and smiles.