Blackwater

in here

oxygen has stopped moving
a body is melting over a dream
that is alive and well
an intention

blackwater

we intertwine like parasites
we love like decay

i could be convinced to move out of here
but every moon begs for this same
consistency

and I am no moon

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Mappa Mundi

Mappa mundi. On my back I
sleep without mountains, or oceans,
or broken continents drifting off
in search for more.
Birds turn origami and
I am left with an echo.

Somewhere between maple rain
and God’s sweet thumb I broke
the rules.
Sand has lost all reason.
Sun has lost its meaning.
Direction is meant for the breathing…
So is matter.

Mappa mundi. Inside
I am a universe. The eye of God, on my
back, giving birth to angels with
white wings of clouds.
Thunder claps in approval
while I whistle an old echo
to the vast dark matter

that prays for existence.

Shipwrecked

When it is day, I do not recognize
this land. We live on
moonlit love and hard water
soaked in oak barrels.

When sunlight takes over
this land, I do not recognize
his hands that
lay me to rest with Strigiformes
and kiss my skin to death

his voice blurs my vision
when it is day, he is
not him
he is a reflection of a
fermented sea I drown in

every night,
when I swim away from this
foreign land I live on.

through the desert sea

I chiseled out an ancient face
and hanged it in my head
though it was not quite alive as I
was waiting to be dead

we trudged together through a desert
smoked a fat cigar
nibbled on dirty tortoise shells
burned our feet on tar

it went like this for twenty years
or thirty, or probably more
long enough that desert sand
began dripping from my pores

and now my skin has turned to bone
and my pretty name is aging
my ancient face is chiseled out
my brain is disengaging

and though I’m not quite as alive
as I would like to be
I am grateful for my blistering walk
through the desert sea

Tell Me Something

Tell me something. As I lay next to my sick sister
in silk, unbalanced; give me an offering.
I burn for truth, for the ignorant man
to bare his torment,
to tell me my body is useless,
to hold me as a black fish stripped of possibility
and soak me in architecture.

Make me into something better than two.
I have been a ruined kingdom
for over an hour. My bed is an ash tray.
My bones are hot with need.
Where is your urgency?
Where is your greed?
Catch my empty hand…save me!!!

Give me something sharp to believe in.
My name is a vicious mirror at a stand off.
I catch my sick sister without her gown,
as naked as the night,
a rough sling shot aiming for the key hole.
She is the lie trembling in my doorway,
the life I cannot live.

We have no place, not now!
Her knees are bruised and I am her salve.
I, her freedom.
She, my prison.
Tell me something to help me
burn this sick girl out of my skin,
to gather my ashes and make me one again.

 

My Heavy Boulder

I’m stuck in this…..nothingness.
The devil tucks me in
at night. I sleep with cannibals.

I am an apple core. Pigs food.
Where did my blood come from?
I am just a trick.
I do not exist.

My sweat is black magic.
I am invisible.
I am air particles and
part of the walls.
I am seams in the carpet.

A blue moon today
is sad sand tomorrow.
My body is borrowed,
taken by the Mexican gun
and his man.

I am abandoned.
I have abandoned this sickly,
trapped in infected placenta.
A dark traveler between
thought and matter.

The water is cold here
but I am colder.
Death is coming.
He’s tied around my shoulders.
My only friend.
My heavy boulder.

A Secret

“There is a dream outside. 
I am dark and imagined and 
I can’t wake up….”

I have forgotten how I write.
My voice is with the calendar,
in the cemetery,
dusting off a bottle. The sun has moved
in on this town,
drying up oranges,
turning water to dust.

Today, I am a reflection.
A left over.

The wind is locked.
My phone is dead.
People have stopped watching.
I am underground,
away from cancer and traffic.

“…and the dream is inside, too.”

Light is nothing, not even artificial.
The birds are an alarm;
God’s warning.
If someone could crush my hand with
a hammer, I could stop all this.

The world is stretching.

I want my voice back.