Lost at Sea


You skimmed through the bars like a pebble,
each splash a cheer
until the water got heavy
and the money ran out.
So you drove home
staying between the lines
until you parked. You swayed
to the door with it’s tricky lock.
Once inside you feel like a sack
of wet rocks on the beer-stained couch
where you left your bottle of just-enough
Jagermeister Spice. You gulp twice
and swear before skimming through
the same infomercials, dulling
whatever’s left of the blues
you don’t see, keeping them
blurred. Your head swirls. You smile
and become a single poinsettia in a Monet
and sing like a sparrow perched on a lion’s tongue.
You close your eyes and start to feel
acid in your gut climb to the back of your throat
like warm chunks of sour tapioca.
You fight the retch,
stumbling up, shoulders back, head level,
breathing deep and slow, with patience.
But purpose is lost
in a sea you can’t see. Up ahead
there’s a bright yellow flower. It hurts
to look at, so you squint and wonder why
you know tomorrow it will be gone.

Grace from Ariel (reprise): Movements Unto Self

For Sylvia

     lit rails shine
whet reflections
     Unorthodox high  lacerates septum
The phosphorous rivulets
tongue and throat  in bitter
     forbearance of aciculate fire   Flint
teeth click and light liquor  vapors
     To napalm

     torrid chords coalesce
reserved breath and barbed  triggers
     The hoarse choir  erupts  Seized

lungs  molt to nectar tears-
     God twins. Meeting
halves fulfilling the heart,

          and she
     blessed Sol, her mantle blossoms dawn,
limpid blue to grace the sable shawl,
     and from her crest will healing truths shine forth
to sew the scars catharsis fains to bare


Burning I rise
To swallow the cross and summon
Tsunamis from my jungle lungs.

With a whim my Mongol breath
Turns water to gasoline-
Watch me drown

Igniting explosives
Setting fire to the skies,
Setting fire to the old

Outdated lives
Of those billion blind eyes
Addicted to box, the cave

Of colorful shadows
Cast in 1280p HD.
Hunt for light

Break free of all idolatries
Mistakenly claimed as your “I Am”
For truth declares

I Am We
We Are One
We burned to become

The brilliant Son baptized in liquor
Pools and sweat-soaked sheets,
Grasping for heaven

With acid tabs under our tongues,
Hands full of sin
And minds full of gold we could not see

But now we feel- Broken free
What vibrant bombast
We become

For We Are
The torrent and the dam

The dragon's throat and threat
Of song

The ox and oak
Apollo's match and muscle

We Are

The bronco hearts
The bloody knuckles

The eye of the hunt
And the grin of bullet teeth

Forged from ruckus and scythe
To become the terror of veils

Osiris at dawn
Roaring we swarm


Flight of the Beautifully Damned: The Willing Evanescence of Icarus


      I'm still
scared of the pain
     (it's ok to be
hurt), but I reach across the sky
     for the sun
and (let it burn) the white fleece
     she sleeps
in. My hands'
     bones splinter, erupt (
vanish) in violent efflorescence.
     My corrupted skin unfolds
red and gold ribbons curling towards the pure
     white light (serenity
found beyond the flames) where Sol kisses
     warmth as I wonder why
          I ever let her go



I lurk in the black
room with one frail light
above me. She hovers

naked like a moon
draped in crimson. Around her
thin men with holocaust limbs

and sickle fangs beg at her feet.
She holds out her palms and gasps
as they sink into her wrists.

She bites her lips,
splitting skin as blood drips
to starving mouths. Their black

veins glisten and throb, pulsing
through taut skin.
Their eyes blacken

as she lays her head back,
moaning, hair floating
amber smoke.

I watch her and purse my lips, gently blowing
strands of silver curling in the black
spelling truth with the words "Love"

"Forever" and "Only You" - her bleeding
stops as my words wrap
tight around her ankles and wrists.

She floats into my arms
burning to gold.
I kiss her. I feel her

pulse throb through her lips
as her eyes glow rose
and mine shine black.

I fucked to love, but never made it


Her crying pulse heralds the chaotic
Bellows of deeper thrash. I tear into
Her heart and lick its length until my tongue blooms

Lush, bloodrose- parting lips.
Lust the crave, the crutch
I grab, I clutch and push. To carry on

Is vanity- such endeavors in the name of love
Are feats of self-deception,
A felony of lips

Giving way to squandered breath, pleasure past-
A thorn to pierce the supple mass
And burn the skin I hold close.