Monthly Archives: February 2015

Sacred Clothing

  Suspenders are oblivious To their importance They hold shit up Panties can only be pink once Bras are too self-involved Gloves never lay a hand on anything Belts are for the buttless Tightening up when uncomfortable Loosening up after … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, The Fashioned Series | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 35 Comments

The Floor Is So Cold Tonight

  The floor is so cold tonight The dust scurries, moves, hides My palm takes the pulse of linoleum Wax, dirt, desire, finish,  surface,  sealer Remnants of shine, all but a bug skeleton speck We were the warmth, the life, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

Published

 

Posted in Poetry, The Fashioned Series | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 37 Comments

The Rope (Portrait #3)

  The snow is blamed, it always is, as mad as you get at it, as mad as it makes me. But, I know, like you do, now, it’s always the rope. The others don’t realize the rope’s properties, as … Continue reading

Posted in Portraits | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 25 Comments

Casuals Don’t Fool Anyone

  Slippers are for cowards Slip-ons are for Christmas Morning hung-over dads Sandals are for white people forced into dreadlocks on their way to burn a man Dancing out of their money eating spiced tempeh fries disguised as Jesus peyote … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, The Fashioned Series | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

Published

                     

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

Vastness

Moons hug tightly to their brightened lovers, never letting go, gravity keeping them together. Stars and galaxies fill the void around them, flying farther and farther apart. Their vast emptiness is not an increase in solitude. The darkness is full … Continue reading

Posted in Short Sayings | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

The Instrument (Portrait #2)

  I stumbled upon her, hidden behind a large sliding door, within the comfort of darkness, unmoved, silent. Is that possible? She seemed so old, so incredibly old, as if one touch would turn her into dust. And dust was … Continue reading

Posted in Flash Fiction, Portraits | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments