Thursday, December 07, 2017

Dylan on the Roof

My grandma would have let that boy in
My grandma would have knelt and prayed for him 
My grandma would have laid her hands over his head and left a blessing 
And then He would have stood up 

And put a bullet in her head 

Saturday, November 18, 2017

We Are Young

two bodies 
easy to tear 
tender to touch 
dance naked 
in the living room
a sacred act

the fire has hushed now
turned to embers 
it is the warm light in your eyes 
that guide
I do not ask more of you
chide you to bend or sway to the crooks in my being
I stand back 
and absorb you for what you are
a miracle

I lean close to your left ear 
and lend you my  

We lay down and press together 
but do not enter
having learned long ago 
that our frames are not a means to an end 

it is your mind 
having grown deeper 
and wider 
I ready to pierce
it opens up 
And we 

are young again 

Thursday, February 04, 2016

Muddy Waters

you are a raven’s breath 
flower skin 
the hushed supplications of butterflies knelt in worship  
at sunrise 

you sit on the wooden porch 
mid summer afternoon 
blood orange scarf fringed across your narrow shoulders
reading about things past 

you do not rush to collect an umbrella 
or motion your lover for a raincoat
you sit 
opening your mouth to drink

Monday, December 21, 2015


And this is love
When old man death comes knocking at the door again
She says
With you 
I will go 
Down deep 
When your soul has washed away 
I will light the wick
And carry you 


Monday, August 10, 2015

some kind of human

you are that kind of human
you wake every morning
and know that all you treasure so close
with guarded heart will go
in time

the sky passes above your crown
never the same again
you are that kind of human

sometimes you stop in the dead
of the day to see time moving in the back room
it does not judge

to hold, is to suffer, it calls.
i will take all this from you
lay it bare
leave your bones to waste

you are that kind of human
the kind that rinses and repeats
with imprints of slave lives buried deep
in your coal black eyes

and you
are that kind of human
watering the seeds
clearing out the weeds
sweeping the porch
and preparing your heart
for more

Monday, May 25, 2015


she smells of sage
and the binding of a new book
discovered in a dying bookstore.
she lets me in to read
when she is not afraid.

she builds things for a living
I asked her to build us a library
to read and grow old in
and a home on the pacific with a garden to
gather tomatoes and collard greens
with our weathered hands.

she dresses in safety.
a plain t-shirt. a
button down sweater.
flat leather boots. hair pulled back tightly in to a ponytail
and tucked. no makeup. no jewelry. nondescript CK underwear.

she paces around the apartment making copious lists
in perfectly straight lines
in a black moleskin.
she specializes in risk-benefit analysis
and excel spreadsheets

I run my fingers along the grooves
etched in her forehead
I notice them whenever she lifts her head to take a clear look at me

to love a woman like me, I know,
is her riskiest bet yet.
no mitigation.
no expectation of certainty.
just plain courage.

Sunday, March 22, 2015


And then she brushed
against me
strung herself across my lap
lacing her heart around mine

We are threaded, she said.
You are the coming. I am the going.
I've mapped your ridges with my tongue.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

There are no words

I realize that beauty is fading fast
It's the price we pay for wisdom
and better days

Webs move across the corners of my eyes
soft folds have arrived at the edges of my smile

I look out to see awkward teenagers
struggling to chart a foreign landscape
so precariously full of wide life

the sun is beginning to set warm gold
against my back

this day
is the best it will ever be

ever more now I know that this body is not home
simply a stunning arrangement
casing for an expanse so wide
the very thought of it makes me cry

yes, the sun is setting warm gold
against my back

but we are not the sunset
We are the very sky.

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Lose to Win

And then, she pondered the absurdity of life. Each moment. One by one. Pulled closer and wrapped into a cord tight around her neck. A jewel placed in the center.

She had searched for days to find something to keep her here.  A twenty minute TED Talk. A self-help book.  All lovely, but ultimately ephemeral. Nothing could save the soul that now hung a corpse. Its rotten stink filling the air wherever she traversed.

She had dreams of the sea rolling in and her dead mother coming with a blanket to protect her. Was it a gesture of comfort or a motioning to go forward?  Would she finally let her follow?

“Nothing will ever be as beautiful,” she said as she stepped onto the chair. Beauty, a transitory and subjective human construction. With the lights dimmed now, she only saw shades of gray.

In the bathroom, she examined the totality of her earthly experience. Is this what they spoke of? Was there nothing more? For the life of her, she could not remember what she came back to learn. Why the fall?

So she took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Sometimes you have to lose

To win 

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Tender. Trembling. And Unsheathed.

I've already begun writing a song for you

The presentiments of satiety
After being starved for so long

You must feel the hunger
to know the full