Monday, February 29, 2016

lust

woman
in a doorway 
the corner of her hem
a red triangle blazing in the sun

she leans against the door post
grips it gently in her hand
she gazes out across the brilliance
and holds you in her stare

she can’t be bought
there is no price
though you have paid it
a thousand times with blood

later it is dark—
you have swallowed all the sunlight
it burns inside you
nothing can extinguish it

covered by a woolen blanket
riddled with bright bullet holes
the cheap motel diminishes
over and over she stabs you

with a single ray of light 

Monday, February 22, 2016

my congregation of crumbs

“like a giant absorbed in pulling down stars and scattering nebulae” –Lorca

four crumbs
and nothing more
like stray planets
or a cluster of galaxies

with one exhalation
i send them tumbling
across the table
and onto the floor

soon they’ll be crushed
and carried into the universe
on the heel of someone’s shoe

this is the way i change the world