Monday, May 4, 2009

Company

Along battered cascades,
mossy rocks
and pink tube socks.
The sycamore's pale
yellow and green
sway above like buggers
in a breeze

Bee in Wild Geranium



May 3rd

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Remembering

Sour waves of violence
on the palimpsest of mind

Friday, January 30, 2009

Yarn Over

She knits
green scarves
to undo
what's unraveled.

Friday, January 23, 2009

She parachutes over acres of love,
unprepared.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Prayer

Unsour
the fruits
that fall
upon
our lives.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Glancing Blows

The unwelcoming
of patience lost.

I've seen that look
before.
Sips of gas-stop's finest
on endless roads.

I drive with the sludge
on my mind.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

The unflooding of winter
back into a dusty autumn day.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Janvier

The subtle pause
of a new
year
Wrapped in blankets
and snow

I remember anew
my love

Monday, December 22, 2008

Clickety-Clack.
The sounds 
of a dissertation
unstalled.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Dishes break themselves
on the kitchen floor.
Cupboard-doors slam
against the woodwork.

I watch as a woman
(who for so long
has been invisible)
tries to make herself known.
A women is bent
into a staircase
and walked upon.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

To her,
I am 
just a strange
sack of skin
with eyes.
We come home 
and find
the compassion 
we've saved
(for years)
is gone.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

A woman weeps
over gallon jugs:
three for a quarter
one for a dime.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Gray

I slip into silver
on the slipperiest
of slopes.
From faucet to drain -
she appears and vanishes
like drops of water.

Hands on a Mug

Oolong tea
oozes warmth
and reprise.
Unaccomplishment
whimpers
in a dream
of powdery snow
We are dragged
through winter days
so swollen 
with rain and mud

Holiday Conservation

We patch
together
and iron out
the torn
and crumpled-up
wrapping paper

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Flakes

You give to me
that pan-fried, 
fishy smile again.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

The foliage unwinds -
our hands sway 
above the orange 
and browns

Saturday, October 11, 2008

I find holes
in bed
where
I've slipped
away.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Lemonade

We toss her tears
from the windowsill
and make rainbows.
She folds 
green sheets
twice over.

Along 
the worn 
down
edges

she revisits
the memory
of her rape.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Perspective

Some will say 
that you ran away
(and that is fine).

I know you ran away
to find me
(and that is better).
The immunity of trauma
held hostage in secrecy.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

A bird flew
straight into me 
and died.

My becoming 
invisible
grows
 
from persons
to animals

Saturday, September 6, 2008

She is salt and flesh -
an oyster melting
in my mouth.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

I can no longer figure out 
why I spend so much  time
changing zeroes into ones
and then back again.

Friday, August 29, 2008

She sleeps
with her eyes
wide open
because she fears
I'll leave.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

I am surrounded
by an army 
of sticky notes
I have hung myself
like a banana,
to ripen and fall














Brush strokes 
of coffee
paint 
every aspect
of my life

including
my dissertation

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

With such vivid colors,
she illustrates her mind
with denial and regret.
Stretch me 
across your life
so thin
I'll disappear

Sunday, August 10, 2008

OK

All of this -
breast cancer, divorce,
and a car accident -
renews her faith
that nothing
will ever be

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Thoughts of You in Banff

I can see you
in the reflections
of mountains
so crisp
and gently laid
against these emerald
glacial lakes.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Coming back

through the rain
does little
to wash away
your sorrow

or

to soften
the edges
of a jagged
mind.

Friday, July 11, 2008

A deep sigh

The bottle you once
gripped so tight
dislodges
from between
your legs
and rolls away.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Epistemology

From my bed I hear
the screaming of rabbits
murdered in the night.

Although I never hear
your screams,
I know that they are there.
She falls into bed
like cement.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

We carry our disagreements
down along a spiral staircase
and bury them among the dead.

When the bones of our past have risen,
we will know its time to part again.

A tangle of living

A young man brushes past simplicity
and sighs.

Beyond the grainy chips of skull,
the dents of having loved remain.
In the bronze factory of my mind,
the girls are all dipped in liquid strawberry.