Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Response.


Melon hearts
Carry dulcet tunes
Sop your face with the juice
Let it run peach and gossamer
Dripping in time to the
Vibrations up your body
From every tribal footstep
And delirious leap into nitrogen arms

Yank it down
Thundering cracked caravans
Running away
Circles and cleft palates
Splitting the fibers of the atoms
Electrons screaming for their mothers
Gnashing at the earth
They claw for her

Taste the phoenix as you rise
Soiled with the ashes of Lake Street

I know you can
Find fear’s filaments
Clogging your every pore
Life’s blood tiger blood
Trying to run
Twist yourself
Into the pretzel of the new generation

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Habitually Under Construction.


Around every three minutes a car will drive by, exciting the dust into clouds that settle like a film onto the dump trucks and safety cones.
The inordinate amount of neon orange says there’s a war on Haverford. Apparently, the city of Indianapolis couldn’t go on ignoring the autonomy of the sidewalks. And now, the six o’clock reality depicts the aftermath of the battles between concrete and men at work with deep holes and orange lattice.
I feel like clay baking in this heat, but it’s a sweet heat. Overhead, the leaves of the trees softening its brutality and shading thoughts still ringing with the echoes of a conversation with someone I’m not allowed to love. 

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Pearl.


The cadences of your combined voices
Tumble down several flights
Of stairs.
These walls are your parentheses,
Scooping you into a
Sentence’s secret room.

Keep the bubbles in your freezer,
And every day
Check
To see if their frosty bodies
Stayed orbular
Through the night your brother-in-law’s best friend’s roommate
Slept next to you in bed.

You fold up your life like a paper fan.
Keep up zigging
As you zag,
Tracing the fault lines
In your cardiac tissue.

Friday, June 22, 2012

Fraying.


We’re tenuous together.
Hanging side by side from her gold chain.
Three, three, two.
Peridot, topaz, amethyst.

Spread thin along the
Stairsteps of a generation.
Somehow,
Amidst every
Birthday undercurrent, every
Snap at a sound,
Every fantastical and inevitable reorganization of
Our lion-hearted loyalties,
Somehow
We’re together in Belgium.

Held up to the light,
Our gaps provide patterns for the lace
As the rays fall through.
Bright white. 

Friday, June 15, 2012

Days.


The horizon flashes in strobe.
Digging our feet into the sand, they disappear.
The breathy kiss of Tuesday
Bleeds into Wednesday.
Tumbling:
Stairsteps and inertia.

The x-ed out calendar squares inching forward
Like a worm,
Like a tortoise
Slow, steady,
Eventually winning the race.

The undertow drinks you in,
Loving the way the salt affects your chemistry.
There’s nothing human in the waves.
A barrage of glittering, summer waves.
Again and again, they’re relentless
Insistent.
Always mechanical in their abscondence
No matter how manic the embrace.