Poem
this grief has me equipped for war
my eyes have no more tears yet still i cry Is this how deserts bloom?
i am plowing my little acre with a buffalo horn Season of violets and lupins salute me as i drive through the vineyards Pills tucked under each nail Hashish lined up like soldiers Tulips tired in my bedroom bend towards the sun How could i not simply dissolve and sink into the earth
it’s easy for me to stop loving you
The way the bobcat becomes rattlegrass on Inverness ridge The way a footprint is the mainsail then the lost visa You’re not new I’m datura along I-5 A ghost rattle This is how i came to Bloody Bay Tobago and to a husband who made sure the cupboard was full but dragged me by my hair from the bed to the joining room This is how women become fog and smoke and 1000 starlings leaving the city before you awaken
ICU
all night the bells and whistles letting us all know
death is just around a corner
she see us in our blue and white hospital gown
ass to the wind//fuck off world//
and it's never beautiful
tubes probes and all manner of violation
bring me cedar and spruce maybe a can of gas
a blow torch and a bottle of gin
i’m on the ground Low lower than that Buried
beneath all the decades and regret
i wear this battle like a shawl
i am mist and disappear then reappear
pacing the halls Walks to the car
for my flask for Hashish for sanity
Gods help me i can’t do this
i drift or sing through time zones
perhaps tomorrow i will speak or move
i have become granite submerged at flood tide
i cry and the nightjar comes
i can lay here for hours days seasons one million chapters and still not see a waning
or have an understanding of why the Angelica fades too quickly