mute

why is it that i hear screams in the night. when i close my eyes, and it’s quiet. flashbacks of you, having to be restrained. you biting, biting. i’m bleeding. memories of you strapped down, pulled full of ketamine. close your eyes, close your eyes. i’m pleading.

dormancy

I like the way the water seems to go the right when the wind comes in from the east.

And when I look up and squint, I’m reminded subtlety of a winter’s tree.

Barren branches just at the top and a bird giving a low, lonely call.

Within a second I’m reminded of where I am.

A place where the screeches of mowers are never-ending and the sun always shines.

The longing always remains though— to have a break from the heat and for it to be so quiet that I can hear the falling snow.

inconsequential

had a dream of my father last night
sitting across from me in a ferry
going which way, I have no clue
he faced the water, he wouldn’t look at me
he seemed mad at me, like he knew
I wanted to ask him
about the time he wanted to die
but I remained silent
the winds played with his thick mane
the low gray clouds behind him
ushered him back
I woke up sad

fleeting

by the time he pulled the bird
out of his pocket
its damp wings were the color
of melted butter
it was gasping, pecking ferociously
its canary spirit flapping away

after the time he pulled the canary
out of his pocket
the soldiers wept for
the absence of its sound
reason lacking, trying unavailingly
to keep any happiness from floating away

cast

Do you remember that place where the trees were tall, and the ground was soft? Everywhere you looked – your eyes were stained with moss. The wind was your white noise, and it hid all the screams from those bad boys. They took all the purple flowers and tore them up, then laughed and ran away. But you walked the other way when they punched you with closed man-sized fists. You are so good at what you do. 

And when the oldest one told you to, “JUST GO KILL YOURSELF!” — you couldn’t help but respond, “why would you say that!”  Only to remember that dream you had where you stopped yourself from swallowing all those small white pills. You never knew your eyes could fill with tears so fast. The oldest boy smiled, and you knew you had failed. He then proceeded to chase you while chanting, “I’m going to stab you with a knife.” You blocked all the hits of his colored pencil, cause at this — you are very skilled. 

And all the while remembering that Forest of the Too Tall Trees and wishing you had never seen those pitiful boys filled with bad thoughts and rage. For you’ve grown tired of how they latch on to you, how they revolve around you like you are their fucking lifesaver. So tired of being a lifesaver. Here, now— I remember that green. God, how I want to get lost in that moss. Taste the sunshine on my lips and be blinded. Do you remember that place?

bogus

heard the blinds clank together
as if I’d have a visit from the voodoo man
but
I don’t even believe in him, I’d think
but
after a visit from the voodoo man
I surely would, I’d think
and afterwards tell him to pack up
all his trinkets, his tools of deceit,
his bottles of dark poison,
all his sparkling white elephants
leave me to close those blinds
and pray he leaves me far behind

this

this beauty gots to even out the ugly 

the motion gots to keep you steady 

yet every day is just the same

left is right, this way is that way

the sun is square, the sky is brown 

your sad is mad, your up is down

the beauty gots to even out this ugly

this hope gots to get you ready 

 

 

rage

I wonder if the Hulk ever hit his mother.

Did he ever graze her cheek

with his massive green fist so fast,

so hard, she couldn’t speak?

Throw her out of his room,

out the window, out of the house?

And I wonder if when he returned to normal,

did he recognize her scars, her hurt.

I bet he couldn’t remember–like him.

Darts his eyes from the display of pain.

Doesn’t move when she flinches away.

Doesn’t recognize the tears

because he can’t remain.

And I wonder if Stan Lee understands

what it really means to love the Hulk?

To stand in his way regardless.

The supernatural drive to help him stay calm,

despite the horror, despite the harm.

The relentless love at stake…

all the tender, godforsaken love it takes.

bond

woke up and there was doom, so much

it was like I was drinking it from a cup

perhaps it’s because I dreamt of those black

ribbons that like to get tangled in my hair

that damned pretentious silk

I feel them now but I have to forage for

those twisted inky feminine cords

don’t you see them

you have to see them I swear

but

you insist they aren’t even there

and

I know I must give up my lost search

not question this pain on earth

long to walk without a step

breathe but not take a breath

just be and not let go yet