Monday, December 9, 2013

vinegar



drink
the vinegar
fortify your bones
your bones
make your bones
strong

your shadow strong
distinct so sharp
crisp
as snow

Monday, September 30, 2013

Chevron


Don't speak to me of violence.

Violence brisks your step, 
schools your thoughts,
is the beverage you raise.

(Violence is the beverage you raise.)

Violence is your roof, 
root and ledge, steam,
tide, cream in belly.

(Violence is the cream in your belly.)

Violence is your river.
From its bed, gaze at Crux, Scorpius,
agog at shiver gleam.

(Violence is your river.)

You walk in violence,
indigenous skulls crackle
under filigree boot, dangerous calendar.

(Don't speak to me of violence.)

Your violence a-flutter in futures,
doled in windowless dungeon,
bleaching, investing a bone sown.

It glistens.

It glistens.

It grows...

(Violence is your tender, your tone.)

Don't speak.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Helped




He helped himself
to cartons
of cigarettes.

He helped himself
He grabbed a file
The wall-to-wall
Blinds drawn, 
to bottles
of rye.

of photographs:
pictures of automobile 
wrecks
and airplane 
crashes.

owns a patina
of grime.

he's on his way
to fame.


Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Pisces



They worried about
her. She would say, 
"What town isn't?"

They worried.

For the ones who need,
for the ones who need four
walls,
she worried.

She's bound,
some said, wound 
up, hooked
on high speed races
and downcast faces
and
mislaid places,
attitudinal traces.

Her vision would
soar
no higher than
money, yearly
doses of it would 
soar.

"I met a young
executive who served
as the stereotype
of the long lost scatological 
banana overripe,
metaphysical."

Friday, February 15, 2013

Susanne



In this big mean land,
in this world of icy stares, 
you opened a door,
then disappeared:
a reflection, suddenly
angled.

Susanne.

Susanne.

Such a lovely sound: Susanne.

Blood at a crawl,
eyes fill and roll and

in that whipping late-winter wind,
in that raw raging rain,
you stooped, mid-sentence,
to raise a sidewalk
worm, tossing to soft 
grass.

Susanne.

Susanne.

Such a lovely sound: Susanne.


Friday, February 8, 2013

Seemingly



After closing,
she walked.
The hotel, several
long blocks away.

Shaking her head.

Seemingly
unaware of crazed
panes.
Seemingly
unaware of broken
bottles.

Glint under
lamp. Crunch
under step.

Shaking her head.

"Of course."

Black ice.

"You were both wrong."


Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Number 9



Here's my illustration for the latest Sensitive Skin cover, a magazine edited by Bernard Meisler, devoted to art, literature and music. The issue includes Fred Frith, Samuel Delaney, John Lurie, Marty Thau, Larissa Shmailo, Susan Scutti, Doug Rice and many more.

Details at their site, order from Amazon.

You can do worse in this world, pussy cat!