The Prey

i wolf-chase fleeting thoughts
for fun, for hunger, for lust, for rage
teeth bared, whipping through the forest
pin one down so the hot blood fills my mouth
“i thought of you, how’s life?” i’ll ask someone
i haven’t seen in decades; or furiously scrawl
an idea, a streak of beauty i saw flying past.
my life is littered with skulls and bones
but if only—  recalling pack times, we’d chase
whole herds, slay giant beasts and feast
for moons or starve together. i don’t know
where they are now, except in turgid dreams
or fleeting whims & memories closely chased




6/17/23

rev. 9/27

Erosion

the canyon of holy desire
is not carved gently by Your waters
but violently, violently, with pain
from the stony edifice of my being
in floods and droughts, undeniable:
ice cracking the crust of my Earth,
summer torrents pouring over me
in an endless conflict chiseling
the native evil from my soul:
“it rains on wicked soil”
is not a promise but a threat
growling of inevitable redemption.

i resist, and the waters pool: see
how i long for this, or resent the other:
until dams burst in destructive release
and You overwhelm my straining flesh.
Your conquest does not feel like love.
i often grieve Your righteous victory over me
—my spirit wants to whisper “and yet,”
but i do not want any part of this.
perhaps i shall in time; over millennia;
until which point i sit in silent loss
watching, piece by bloodied piece
Your canyon form upon my wayward heart.

June 2023

neurons on a train

 he wondered:

the equal opposite for hearts--

could love heal weird train people?--

rate affection's power, all-to-nothing--

when's heartbreak not worthwhile--

why do ugly men bother staring--

how to get permission--

then silence,

long note writing, fourth drafts,

a sigh, staring indistinctly right.

his head soldiers on:

how much before it's not innocent--

queen Boudicca in flamingo pink--

the invalidity of anguished judgement--

had he ever seen an old wife laugh,

really laugh, at her husband's humor--

would they refill the coffee for free--

june 2023 

Play It As It Lays

BZ asked why

but with maria

I bleakly whisper

Why Not

june 2023

just playing

i forgot a few things

"can you play dead

for a few days--"

i used to think i could stand

anything--like crucifixion:

bearable for a few hours

especially when you know 

you'll be dead after, so

there's nothing to preserve.

Mom on the phone, weeping

"there's so much better,"

with "for the kids" ringing.

Billy on the phone too,

"i'm all alone," in a sob

while i sip a drink in stupor.

i'm playing dead real good

but it's getting harder to tell.

june 2023

natives

i always forget how bright it is above clouds

how empty, how it must be so silent

except for the planes, which is

my only access point, of course--

thoughts drifting to native species,

realizing with a shock that Pilots

are the closest thing to residents here:

the tailless, wingless, furless ape

the only animal to be discovered.

june 2023

spark

"light of my life," whispered the monk

drenched in gasoline, match in hand

smashing

what is this stone, and how

do i break it into pieces

is it the mountain itself

or can i hope--will it--

and is there strength enough

to even raise the hammer again.

june 2023

night

big bright full moon

i can tell only because

the stones are glowing

and wind's in the trees

june 2023