Friday, December 12, 2008


She believed faith
could move mountains.
Tyrone was drawn
from the shadows.
Tyrone was a hostage to pity,
her ransom was inarticulate.


Tyrone felt pleasant,
Though it exhausted him
To feel this way.
She sent him letters
From across the ocean.
Tyrone knew it had been days
Since they were penned
But it made today
Feel like now.


It was all Tyrone's fault.
He had been punished
For his innocence
But slipped away clean
On everything else.
She seemed
Always to be waiting,
For declarations or confessions.
Tyrone was waiting too.

Thursday, October 9, 2008


She said, this looks like
Tornado weather
And Tyrone spun.
He sucked everything
Into the vortex of what
Couldn't be explained.
She implored him
To seek shelter.
Tyrone stared at the sky
Until she blew inside
The funnel too.


She was guttural,
Tyrone was thread bare
She sang in a silent night,
Tyrone whispered devotion.
Tyrone memorized what was
She couldn't remember
what she forgot.

Blown Away

Wind that has banished
two autumn's leaves
and whipped flags of disgrace
can't fill the sails
to bring us home.

Light that burns days shorter
can't illuminate
these secrets
their shadow grows longer
and we look away.


Seems a fright
to loathe the monster
and pine for the teeth,
tears in the screen door,
flies hover,
perineum twitch.

Startled by toes
between my cold wet feet,
gutters groan
drowned in promise
while unlocked gates
squeak in a primal wind.

The tension of this long meal,
devouring hours,
It's always warmer
where the cannibals perch.

Not from Around Here

Tyrone had never really traveled anywhere
but he always seemed as if he wasn't from
around here.
His goodbyes
a preamble to distances
that had resolve.
His hellos
could inherent
the earth.

Postcards from Florin

I'll send you postcards
from Florin
across this barren sea,
Paintings of girls
never seen
with borrowed eyes,
I could swim in this brackish water,
but I can't shine.


Tyrone knew there were things
that could not be fucked away.
She had taken him by surprise
in the most predictable of ways.
Tyrone woke
with his eyes glued shut
and felt for a pulse.

Friday, September 5, 2008


She seemed clean for a hitchhiker. Sometimes the abuse was easy to see, with her you had to look hard. It was there, in the way she paused just before speaking. As if, balancing up high, and a deep breath, in or out, mattered.


Tyrone loved the taste of her mouth
When she'd been drinking.
She hated the taste of their mouths
In the morning.
Tyrone should have beat her
Like her father did.
She would have forgiven him
Like his mother did.


Tyrone had tigers
In his tummy,
Gremlins in his head
And icecicles between
His toes.
She knew that being submissive
Allowed her to be petulant.
Tyrone courted these monsters.
Pride was her bump
In the night.

Friday, August 29, 2008


Tyrone was addicted to
bad decisions.
Even the vicarious guilt
he burdened himself with.
She couldn’t help herself
and neither could Tyrone.


Tyrone surveyed the past
As mythology.
She said she couldn't
Imagine a future without him.
She suckled
This heroic blindness.
Tyrone took note
Of another flaw of the gods.


Tyrone stiffened
Her back arched.
She pursed lips in confidence
Tyrone quivered
Tyrone couldn't give her away
She was invisible


She was as cold
as the abandoned.
Tyrone harbored
Stolen warmth.
She dug a hole
Big enough to bury
Boxes of contradictions.
Tyrone was bound,
She smoldered.

Menstrual Bridge

Tyrone wore her spine
Around his neck.
She lived under a
menstrual bridge.
Tyrone said,
He loved the darktime
But he didn't want to be here.
She hadn't planned,
But this was not
as she had planned.


She looked at Tyrone
Like felled timber.
Attracted to dignities absence.
It was just Tyrone's luck,
He fell on his side
That had cancer.