Hiruzen

& the horse-archers watched as I tried to tame the wild.

calculations of sleepless steps bent on becoming imprint:

because to speak my verse is to decipher my movements,

and if the stray arrow orients itself to my binding of skin,

let the wound te...

Magnified moments in the Prison art room

make sense, they build a culture; free. Bars become

a texture of rust sung decay outside the windows.

Staplers aren't weapons, they simply bond paper.

A guy asks about the value scale; he straddles a fence.

I talk...

Love Quarrel with Ixodes 

I leaned into you. 

My hands, my many bodies of desire 

brushing tips of natal grass. 

You pooled into me, devoured 

nouns, verbs, shoes, lucidity,

the names of flowers, flowers

becoming things. Of all the things 

you tried to teach...

Lux Labor

Remember the maw of the shears

surrendered to a shake shingle shed,

which stands on the edge of a sleeve

of meadow next to the woods,

and our words like dirt stuck to shovels

that now are the quiet instruments

of the trenches we dug, and the road

c...

kintsugi

movement flickers

under the pale sheet of SSRIs.

the sharpest parts of my fingers

dig into my palm,

excavating crescents

in bruised shades of purple.

i hold a galaxy in my hand.

the elixir glazes my gut

in nauseating swirls.

my chained beast squirms

wh...

I was raised in the light of mountain   hulk of

a confident outline   brazen   vibrational

luster a conglomerate presence of   pine   stone

lion   deer     &   bear’s

amorous desiring o...

Fable 

A father pins his son against a wall

and wraps his hand around that little throat

to squeeze it only once, as if to say

I cannot take this wildness of your wings.

An hour afterwards, he wipes a cloth

across the stinging eyes his boy can’t close

enoug...

Diane, remember the room divider 

we improvised so we could each have privacy? 

A twine between the two halves of the room. 

Our bunk bed taken apart—your top bunk 

brought to your side of the room and my bunk 

brought to mine. We threw a dark blanket 

ove...

Elegy     (in process)

I remember myself and my open legs. Silk lingerie
          to dance in. I remember that the grasses swayed too,
                    the olives and wheat murmuring toward the sky....