india (iii)

I put my head under water and my hair is like bleeding ink spreading out around my swirling head; the blue and the orange lights, the absolute stillness of my puffed cheeks. A plane flies and lands on my back crashing into my head. I can hear nothing and feel less. I feel my chest….

city living

A city with its tendrils is connecting to the various avenues in my mind; the quiet dewdrop fields will not save me, they will not allow me to flee my own self, so I plug into this concrete maze and wait for the noise to silence my insanity. Walking along I know that the street…

autobiography: love

June 10, 2004. Cape Cod. I am standing on a collection of large rocks that feel to be slowly eroding under my feet, as if to retreat into my shoes. I am aware of the changing color of the bay beneath me, blue to white waves of water, the sounds of eroding rocks stopping the…

india (ii)

My mouth must have been wide open, to smell those smells and see those sights, even in that middle night darkness: trash, strangers, small groups cluttered on what passed for street corners, one man passing honeysuckle back to another, and back again. I was frightened and in awe and all of my western life was…

but the words

In our culture, where can we find hope? In the children who read books and come to bookstores to see what the new releases are; one–her mother haggling the proper age range for a particular book –just goes to town picking¬†her nose¬†with both hands, oblivious to everything but the words.

(XXX)

(06/13/08) anxiety anxiety anxiety…ever present, coming down the highway at a great clip, spewing flames from its thoughtless exhaust, eating up the pavement below it and drinking in the rain it has permeated, oh anxiety anxiety, a land of demons and incomprehensible sadness and madness and inability to even describe it, so why try?, why…

(XXIX)

To live in West Virginia is beyond description, but I’ll sure as hell try. THE TOWN The downtown, although historic, offers three colors and they are all shades of gray. The bricks look like they were put in the wrong place, the sidewalks are empty, but they don’t feel that they should be. At times,…

(XXVIII)

(12/11/08) Here’s what it is: There really is something to be said about the spirit of people, how it can open us up from confinement and makes us feel the air around us and understand, that yes, we are in fact still alive. We can see in them a reason to open up, to be…

longing

My hand falls open by my side As you reveal yourself to me; Small strings of you hop from fingertip To nerves–waiting for flesh. I’ve seen you, and will see you again; I’ve felt the droughts of your skin alleviate The light of your face, the simple, quiet Moan of my weight on you. We…