Today I began courting
the nervous system. I was
nervous.
Les truths
limping over here,
now. I love
beside breasts and between
swallowed delicateness,
until.
Big river spills. Memorizing
previous drools, slobber-spells.
Rejuvenates the dead clams
on shore.
Little wonder no one drinks the water.
*
Iris-out
Blank spaces seem
to happen of late. What happened?
I mean, to cause this change. Reflections
bounce off my face. Once in a while
I just watch—that is, I hum.
*
Iris-in
I don’t want to sing like this anymore.
Desire is vein-colored, diluted under thick skin.
We attempt birthing backwards—into half lit
drops of ointment. We re-own our eyes
by staring at things.
*
I shift with the precision
of a hill. Oh, no one told me
about the bruising.
Little Webs of Ecstasy
Published
The Failures of a Non-Performer 