Vows

In a cool, inconvenient marriage,

the wedding vows thatch the roof.

Rain makes itself at home anyway.

The bride drinks.

Groom swims.

Outside,

a torrent ready to swallow them.

Coming Down on Me

Mechanical clouds,

the pendulum to the pit

sink lower and lower.

Since I was born,

the threat of water has

been as a canopy above me.

My diving gear is holey.

Nothing breaks down

With a promise of pain.

My lungs will fill as sponges,

And then there will be

the catharsis of pressure,

the implosion as the

weight of water lays on me

like caramel on whipped cream.

Secret Sea

On the gold prairie,

silver competes

with the dew.

Grass saws air

clean enough for surgery.

Somewhere below the graves,

a sea of oil lapping against earth.

What will happen

when the men with

long claws and downward hunger

stumble on this peculiar paradise?

Oval Ounces

Oval ounces of flutterby breeziness

string across the

marinating grass like

crystal balls.

what a brew he makes

from fog and my secrets!

I have been seen through to.

Beneath the weight of the future

blades snap.

Like Caramel

Mechanical clouds,

the pendulum to the pit,

sink lower and lower.

Since I was born,

the threat of water has

been as a canopy above me.

My diving gear is holey.

Everything breaks down

with a promise of pain.

My lungs will fill as sponges,

and then there will be

the catharsis of pressure,

the implosion as the

weight of water lays on me

like caramel on whipped cream.

Forgive me if I’ve already posted this. I don’t mean to spam you. I lost my place in my document and I’m not sure exactly where I left off.

Moon

I sift through softness,

through the pliable belly of the moon,

to find my star,

glowing like an electric song.

How many lamps are

hidden in this orbiting bed,

a million and one possibilities

in white.

Is There Anything More Frightening?

Silly days design corn mazes.

I got lost in one as a child,

melted into the corn

like butter.

Then woke up again,

refrigerated,

with breasts in my topography,

popcorn lethal to me.

Who is that child playing

at the opening of the labyrinth?

Is there anything more

frightening than entering eternity?

Yes.

Leaving it.

In the Woods Behind the Houses

They carry shovels,

concrete mix.

The soil opens before them like a purse.

Tang of Chlorophyll

Flowers coagulate in the

living room you can’t see

because I have strung ten thousand

chandeliers from the foil ceiling.

The season is polished,

a wave of salt rolls over

the soil at the other end of the street

but here is nothing but

the tang of chlorophyll and breath.

Enclosed in my equatorial dress,

I am as a letter to the star,

whose power I painted

electrical in a posh home,

mixed media mural on my ceiling,

cheap imitation regality.

The ground shakes.

The scent of salt

blossoms from the door.

Tears in my pale eyes,

petals shriveling.

And still my lights do not

go out.