Category Archives: Poetry

Devotional

Remember me to the ease of light, its pause and passage, we are not long for this earth, which swallows us, and our lovetagged bones, as a matter of natural course and radical recomposition, all the gifts, and hopes unwound … Continue reading

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Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Note to metamorphosizing self: every cocoon quivers and trembles, every process of change brings with it a new set of keys, and claims, every slumber implicitly contains the charge of wakefulness, and every grief minnows within a sea of holy … Continue reading

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Beginner’s Heart

I have spent so many years detailing and outlining and mapping out fractures, a pirate osteopath with a cartographer’s bent, and now, galvanizing a mutiny meant to take me out into uncharted waters, I see how beautiful and necessary it … Continue reading

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Weathervane

The secret to becoming a true revolutionary, lay yourself out upon the world’s limitless altar  of secrets, and praise the hidden roots of everything you encounter daily, heart bared as proof of light’s need to air.

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The Next Amendment

We, as humans, have the inalienable right to bare hearts, pouring molten light and lush vines of dark, to practice humanity in all its patterns and forms, we, the living revolutionary works of art forever in the process of becoming … Continue reading

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Love is Real, the Remix

I thought I knew a lot, explanations analyses profound conjectures nothing new under the sun stupid is as stupid does tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow marathon swims in the think tank and abstractions wrapped like leaden scarves and flags round my neck … Continue reading

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I Don’t Know

After I love you the three most powerful and talismanic words in the language might be I don’t know, instant reducer of ego, canal-cleanser for deeper listening, ventilator of humility and breathing room, not to mention a reverential nod and … Continue reading

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Childhood’s Wake

You can feel it in the air, a razory sheen, all the childhoods that were lost or stolen or seized or buried to model catacombs and secret lairs, are returning to the surface bigtime, the reclaimants growing new teeth and … Continue reading

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Song of Hope

They kill poets in these parts don’t they? When I got here I saw Walt Whitman’s wizened head out back impaled on a stake flies buzzing round its concomitant rot and stench I heard one of the locals say it … Continue reading

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As You Desire

Free from staid context, and the fragile lull of fate, she had come a long unmapped way to create a new set of illusions by which to set and frame her course.   (Photo by Cindy Sherman)

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