to my sister on the edge of the campus pool

i assume the checkered taxi driver
was her daddy, maybe her brother,

grinning like a jack-o-lantern
with a missing tooth.

annie's insides step out first, then her sweet smelling clothes--
fierce stilettos kill silver stone.

it's a faithless stampede to his window
for a quarter on the mercury line;

"call when class is over,
call when you're alone."

he’s always chewing, spitting, chewing
tumors like doublemint, like ice picks--

like the stinging long legs some great god gave her,

& spaghetti-curled hair-- cocaine freeze bleach.

like the can of diet coke and the cigarette

neighboring the handle of a pink umbrella,

while mascara runs like rag water

to pressed lips, cursing the rain--

the last lost lake in america
must have stuffed those egg white clouds with a swollen cork today.

i know she's got a moon in her pocket,
los angeles and bullets on her tongue,

skeletons, secret names,
just like I do.

we’ll both remember the boys
with flasks in hip pockets,

and the firefly dinner dance
on dirty sherbet patios.

the payphone chews her nerves,
the receiving end gnaws the wire,

“all is foolish except love and honor.”

i grind my teeth hollow at the union
while they eat their breakfast, while we let go.

nurse white, anonymous, concealed.

kingfish

moss trees mock my hair
while a sleepy olive figure
rests his moon slashed eyes
on the kingfish.

in this mud-cake shotgun,
cobalt bleeds from a painting
now defaced and infamous,
sinking through the floorboards.

i can smell sugarcane burning
somewhere beyond the swamp
as sweet magnolia sweat
hammers my shrimp boots like rain.

and i leave my lungs, my faded jeans
full of cheap silver and film
to rust with the boat,
wishing for gills as i jump first.

12/5/09

the chill knots itself in my hair and a wetness from the wild purple night drips onto cracked lips, sliding down my ridiculous scarf and dusky cotton coat. this wind could wake the dead. cats past nine lives hiding under hurricane houses and early nineties scrap metal. the red-head, sugar cane, static television smile predicts southern snow and the city repeats itself while familiar rain grows faint. the hollow branches i can see from my window have been arguing for hours. sometimes i think they're just as indecisive as i am. looking into the mirror, counting lies backwards. ice and pine cones in my throat.

dear, deer

for months i watched
a brittle wick burn
to the basement of
a pint-sized urn
and the last layer of
vanilla wax dilute
swallowed by a flame,
somber and mute.

i could have put it out,
used my last bit of rum.
i could have stole the lake,
harbored in my lungs.
but the drunk deer-eyed flashes
were more vital to the martyr
and the sun forced a dance
atop the salty water.

the twisting of my body,
the acid on flesh
and finally the aftermath,
choking ill breathes.

and oh, how those questions kill.
the rot of the vines-
some dumbstruck frost tree
with camouflage eyes.
and the smell still lingers,
magnetic to your nose.
i sealed all my senses
so that i would not know.

run-on, stay still, and speed up

my long locks gone
wild to the river flooding
the creases of your left palm
hold nothing but melt
like mountaintops in summer
stretch to the solar moons
in sight, out of mind
at dawn and stay quiet
for the crickets at my feet
in bed all knowing
secrets like the one
in white webs you tangle
gold, gold around my bones
swollen eyes every time
orange beams move through
ten hour intervals or
maybe i'm wrong and
cats stay still in a frenzy like
statues of blind men watching
the crowd bleed dew and slip on
nerves inside out
littered by dust from
your teeth grind
dreamy and drowsy octave
wash out the frozen pupils
of foggy noir
opposite magma that
when you create this sleep
skipping breaths for beats
at night you are alive
(and the woods talk back)
.

does it make you anxious?

plum cheeks in the twilight
our late night wire womb
as potent as hollywood
trouble, sweet blood, carbon

your flickering nerves
blooming, decaying
planetary and abstract
the golden fruit.

i hope for quiet places
to make you shiver
entangled in your flaws,
untouchable distance

does it make you anxious?

i’ll take out my wallet
and write you notes on dollar bills
that we’ll spend at the cafe
when we’re restless.

steal that homeless guy, he's cute.

challenging my body
the night has tight ropes
like magnets, like currents

i’ll tape our ribs together
trade our lungs for balloons
and spill my guts across the continent

my teeth can tell the time
better than your watch, the sun
three bottles will do the trick

i pass a smile at heather
never surprised
to see her doing the same

spinning, careless
stars explode beneath translucent skin
balancing on the edge of the milky way

and soon i’ll kiss you
drunk in a church
and bless our tongues as holy