By on Mar 27, 2016 in Poems

Fragments   He says that the universe is very wide, very large, as large as Lake Michigan on a rainy day and he wishes his hands were large enough to hold it while he watches opera in an Italian suit and a maroon and beige tie. He wishes that his eyes were large enough to take in the smell of violets but will settle for the taste of small white candies with the flavor of them written in Roman letters and carried in a tin in his not so very large pocket. He wishes that his ears were large enough to take in the sound of a hundred white Russian winters, that his wallet was also large enough to hold enough money to buy a house there and that his memory were deep enough to hold every moment that he has had in a glass with rounded edges hand blown in Italy because when he dies he knows he will move towards the light and nothing else and that the universe is very large thought his eyes...


By on Dec 11, 2015 in Poems, poetry

Quinella   Thursday. On a whim my lover, D, and I, go to the horse races. We bet on some horses, mostly mid range long shots. We win, we lose. We are at Hollywood Park in Inglewood, and it’s pretty run down, pretty grungy, but there is something about its rundown, offbeat air that I, in a weird way, love. Like the green bathrooms with their eerie lights and vintage smell. The old men are studying the favorites in the newspaper, yelling when theirs comes in on the rows of TV screens above our heads. In between races I walk way, way out to the car, where the parking is free, to get the book I’d brought to read. On my way out a black man comments on my legs, says he can tell I haven’t been hanging out in prison, cause my legs don’t have marks on them, they are pretty, he says. I smile, just a little, to keep it friendly. I keep walking. I hope I don’t have to see him on my way back....

The Heaven of Dreams

By on Feb 26, 2015 in Poems

The Heaven of Dreams     You try and you try.   You try to birth something of beauty through the misfortunes of a difficult marriage you try to bloom into this beauty despite ferocious winds and high anxiety.   Who you are             in the essence.   This love in the wake of so much change. This deep well of desire and belonging. The blues greens opals of dreamtime. The aqueous pools of memory.   Who you are             in the essence.   You want to pull it through from the dream realm into time and space, through your crown and into your awakening body and wanting it seems to make it so and so you begin to move towards this this smooth opening, the soft warming of what you want just before it becomes real.   What you know is this.   Your only job is to be   is to be very clear.   2.   Though you pray for this continual soft...

Jane Eyre

By on Feb 26, 2015 in Poems

Jane Eyre   I blundered onto the moors with my coffee breath and my hands wrung blue with grief.  The air was four walls, a darkened room of mist, a grounded cloud that followed me, ghosted me. I was crazy with his name    his face    the longing for him the telepathic, tele-pathetic lifeline we shared, my heart all strung up and spun around him. I was dizzy with it, I was spinning. I wanted to go away from him but I had nowhere to go. I wanted to go to him but I did not know where to go. He perfumed and bewitched the gray air that cloaked me, spooned me. It was like this for a long time. After a while there was no time. I was small. I wanted to be even smaller. I do not know how to categorize what came next or what day it was but there was one moment that changed it all. I thought I saw the sizzle of a yellow bird flicker in the distance. I thought I saw it leap through a break...

This Dance, Right Now

By on Aug 21, 2014 in Poems

This Dance, Right Now   She said she had danced naked with him never with anyone else and felt more herself with him than anyone the lamplight that bathed them both made the space they occupied together safe and flexible made them both more open to change more instantly in the moment and fully present more lovely as reflections she a warm fire in his eye he a still pond from which to drink.   In this changing room of topaz light and impermanence they found the heart of life then fell fast asleep spent and amazed all their questions bits of ember and ash floating up and away without any effort without any fear....


By on Jul 16, 2014 in Poems

Alchemy   Three days in a row eating cake. Lemon Balm Devil’s Food Pineapple Upside Down For thirty days prior to this total breakdown of willpower – No Cake.   I’ve given up marriage, given up working even, to write poetry.   Is this force that makes a poem the same congealed lightning that makes a cake rise up and become something beautiful?   What if my husband when he was my husband is right?   What if by leaving him I will slide via my own utter ineptitude back into bohemian degradation, slide permanently out of the comfort of middle class and die without health insurance car insurance and a 401K?   And separate from him. What if the voice in my head that says I will never, ever, ever again have sex with a reasonable & willing human is right?   Train goes by. The air in here is filled with the smell of sugar caramelizing. Sugar and...


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