Tuesday, August 13, 2013

california, in hospitals and jails
you are the street's shadow-kissing
white wombs and leaving gore
dripping from the future of every

"We will have our blondes, by bleach
and by knife!" masturbating furiously,
the executioner's wife dreams of living
three sizes under the expected zone
labeled erogenous. How cold.

We are prisoners of this war;
you wrap us up in helixes
you think you see, your false
security blanket leaves us cold
and rotting on the ground.

Thursday, May 9, 2013



All day the twin melting helix of 
souls dancing in the moon and wind
--a ritual deflation, dusty hands 
spread wide and chapped raw, reaching
towards the glowing eyes and gaping 
maws of 1,000 spirits in a whirlpool.

And the stars shine over us all.

Wrap this hope in a cocoon of solitude,
rest it in emerging golden rays with sparrows singing
as the leaves reach and cover you in grace
waiting for your safe return to our glittering shores.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Herstory Check

Slivered eyes my
way, my walk watched and
weighted, always on a scale of thumbs.

And I cease to be myself again,
surfeited definitions like bent hands on Salvador's clock.
All you cocks figure it out,
I'll be in my vagina bubble awkwardly predicting each one of you
onto the colored lights by name
--but let me make clear:
my legs are not spread to your mock or like or silence

--toys and go home
and I dance in your brined uncertainty at everything.
Only my friends bring me to parties anymore.