So immaculately groomed,
so perfectly dressed,
so erect and motionless
amidst the repartee and jest,
that at first glance across
the crowded room one might
take him for a foreign guest.

Between the canapes and soup
is when it usually begins,
imperceptible at first
like some viscous pudding
coming to a boil from within,
he begins to seethe and roil,
his countenance turns grim.

She can always spot disaster
long before it comes -- nothing
she can do, nowhere she can run.
She can only watch the slaughter

Sometimes there are such days when you don’t feel yourself anymore,

Your heart is hurting and there is no one to heal your wounds that are still sore,

But your heart knows that nothing can break you down to the floor,

The wounds heal and one day the scars will be gone,

When you feel you have nothing left in you anymore,

When your heart aches and you are left to moan,

But you don’t give up and keep the fight going on,

You are strong enough to get your ship to the shore,

Even if the worst storm hits you, you don’t lose your belief,

From the time I was
Born
I had a sparkle
In my eye
My mother told me
And imagined
A Better Life
For Me
And
For her heart

As I grew
I formed desires
From My Heart
Desires of Will
Where
Ambition
Is Born

I began to dream
And form 
The Way
I could fulfill
The desires
Within

I owe
My mother
Who bore me

Whose dreams
Were partially
Held
And
Formed
By my Life

I will achieve
I Will
Do my Best
I will fulfill
As much as I can
For my mother
For my heritage

I lick the marrow out and gnaw the bone

my master gave me. I got pizza too.

But sometimes he goes out and I’m alone.



That’s when I chew his pillow or his new

comforter apart, or his wool sweater.

My canine teeth are better than a shredder;

they pull to pieces nearly any item

that they can reach: today his navy-blue

sweatpants he bought last night. Don’t misconstrue 

my rationale. You fancy that I spite ’im

to trouble him. Why, no! That’s not my aim.



I make believe I’m chasing after prey

while ripping up his stuff—a hunting game.

“This is a window”
on the wall, ballpoint scrawled.
A slab, ceiling facing,
unable to identify the
off-white, a sort
of unfocused infinite
no sunlight can alter.

I memorized this poem that
I found today. Would you
like to hear it? Okay.

[clears throat]
“'The Dismemberment Of'
Like Bacchus in the river,
the Greek name exchanged for syllabic
rightness. The drive feels Apollonian, though,
more so, to me, here. It's a directed want.
It's unpreserved, so maybe not: the latter
is the golder one, a – not a keepsake, but
a crown.

i just met you
but you stand alone
in my world
i don't know your name
or your zodiac sign
or if all that  long hair is really real
but all of that doesn't matter
because i want to sex you down
and love you sweet and slow
it only takes a minute
to know it's true
hello love
i want you.

The past is perfect.
The present is gerunding.
The future is tense.

Eyes and smoke
Judge’s words
Dry as twigs

Flame tugs my skirt
Like a fretful child

Time to fly the hedges
Race the rook
And ring the bell

I tore down all the walls
and disconnected myself from him,
burning down the path right into my head.

I sewed my scars with titanium,
and patched up all the bruises from all the times that I begged for you stay on my knees.

I caught myself midfall and arranged a flight to the present,
where I now am in command.

Chicken Bites Egg



God

pours itself

onto golden sand


Where God soaks

in, Flower

grows


Flower

opens itself

to velvet night


Amid petals a

female is

sleeping


Moon

wakes Woman;

her eyes open


Woman leaps to

the rippled

sand


She

dances animals,

plants, and world


This time there

won't be

humans