I am brand new and marvelous
There is no more fine line. I built a rock garden there. Queen Mab sends kind regards bequeathed it all a holy place, one of sanctity and magic. I am here grounding my aching feet deep in the earth and she welcomed me so all the trees say my name among others. There is no…
This Pen Mine
My pen is a hammer. I hold the nails in my mouth. I spent years building my own coffin. I took the measurements and planned what my obituary would read. My pen in a hammer I want to smash in the faces of men. Father let me down. Told me I was to blame. and…
I wish I met you once, we both drunk. I would place my finger just above the bridge of your nose and put it in my mouth thinking a woman could sweat art the way she does loss or tequila. I’ll bring the red string. You will bring the shears.
Recipe for pickled eggs Today my brain is a pickled egg Floating, isolated Inside my skull. My thoughts taste of vinegar. My mouth the mason jar lid. In the night I was boiled Three hours later Cooled and peeled. You must imagine how this feels. How raw A shell removed Fed to the garbage disposal.…
I have given it a name. The Bleak this beast it bites and in its bullets are coffin nails. Those nails I hear them crying this sad work. This goodbye . This ready fear and hate that wants to consume. Will it stop for nothing? On it savages and we are groping because we are…