Tag: poetry
God is Salt
I love stickers.
I run everything through my sticker maker.
I forced my flip flops through,
then a starfish,
a river of my hair,
a beach chair.
My scrapbooks brim with beaches, ballerinas
and heart attacks.
What won’t you run through my machine?
What won’t you laminate and stick with me?
Is God hovering just above the water restless?
God is salt.
He is always salt.
He fills the sea with delight,
cleans the air,
sows the fields.
He giveth.
He taketh away.
He notices neither.
The Future Ghost
Veiled
Veiled by a history of kisses,
I hide from unknown eyes,
my skin concealed in dewy molecules
of locks.
Shut away
in this connection
I build a convent
of clouds.
The sacred is when two worlds touch.
The World May Follow Fire
The world may follow fire,
but I know a place where shadows spin roulette,
the dark and wet the only fashions worth following.
The Battle
The Road
Motherdesire
My neighbors collect babies and
I envy them their cornucopia of giggles.
They have had their eye on my storehouse of sleep for months,
and if I didn’t need it like blood I would arrange a trade.
My pill plant is growing chubby little tablets
dry as math.
Harvest day is here.
Being a Bird
I was busy being a bird,
birding with ease on a Wednesday
with only a cloud watching –
the currents too busy grinding
to notice my loop de loop
Under a Bored Moon
Abandoned country.
Cigarettes sleep.
The moon is bored.
This is a place where things have not happened
in a very long time.
Ash shifts in the wind.
A stone almost tilts.
And yet that shadow has an arm –
and a match
Miniature Moon 