Dear Girl,

Sweet creature,
your wasting away.

Did you sleep?
Or did you die then?
Did you sink into his heart?
or dissolve completely?

Rejected, you are caught;
tangled in his hair.

And although grief
has unlocked your throat,
you are no louder than
the milky chatter of pearls.

So let Karma twist your body
however he likes,

May his greedy blue eyes
     protect you.

*

Born of the earth;
He is a feast for the human soul.

His father is a velvet fungus,
who invented the cult of domesticity.

His mother is pregnant
with crisp autumn nights,
and speaks to him in
the language of the
sun and the moon.

He lives in ancient waters,
with the singing oracles
of passion, pain and pleasure.

He drives the heartland express
and his air freshener smells like musk.

He collects squished whispers from your ceilings,
and feeds them to you until Sunday morning
comes to take him back.

J.B.

“Just like sparrows,

you'll never see one dead.

Must be millions of them,

but you'll hardly ever see one dead.”

    “What happens to them?”

“They get over it.”

    “Over what?”

“Over being there.”

Fly Paper

Tears as shallow as temptation.

Intent as thick as moonlight.

Thoughts as clear as rose water.

Mind as thin as butterfly wings.

Can't do anything but stay.

A million miles above the ground;

I am your flashing lights.

Shangri-La

The day the starfish were high,

we were swimming towards the sun

and nirvana was only a stroke away.

We carried stories in our stomaches 

and let them bubble up from our throats 

until we could see them wrap around

the waists of street venders.

The merry-go-round music tangled in my hair

but I never wanted to shake it out.

Your breath was in my lungs 

when the citrus-sucking sunshine

made your heart skip a beat. 

Our feet burned black on the board walk

when we walked too far,

looking for where the ocean herself was born.

When the mermaids called our names,

we waded through tide pools,

let seaweed grow around our ankles,

and promised never to uproot them. 

And finally the seagulls brought us 

aphrodisiacs from the Gods 

so we climbed the lightning bolts

and became a new constellation. 

Maybe

Someone once told me that
poetry should be felt upon the pulses.

It's the fly you want
trapped in your head.

It's the cool calm that rains down
As dusk falls onto your shoulders.

It's a blitz.
A black box.
A cellar door.
It's wooing the muse.

Blitz

Words skinned and numbed

by too many bricks, 

slip out past your hollow tounge 

and through your silk teeth.

Your words fall to the earth like milk;

creamy and assuring. 

They flow over sticky cobblestones 

and gather in puddles around my feet. 

Gently, they wind around my ankles 

and slip through my belt loops.

Until they are snaked around my waist

and teething on my lips. 

Your words smell like you: 

The sweet saline scent of tears. 

They tug at my eyelids

until I sleep,

and stick to the inside of my skull

so I can enjoy them later. 

When Was The Last Time You Danced?

The last time I danced

I couldnt remember the steps.

I was too busy leaking injustice from my pours 

and looking for something to burn. 

Your hands were on my hips 

as we failed in style,

like tired machines. 

You held me close 

and whispered gently, 

"In the sleep of death, 

  you may find dreams."

You

We've been up

and we've been down.

Down is defiantly better.

You've picked me up, 

you've kicked me around.

My butterflies never went away.

We learned to speak to each other,

but we forgot it all.

Our best times never had words.

Sometimes we get by

but mostly we fall.

Let me on this sinking ship. 

Carmen

Why is he kissing that girl?

The one with the peppermint hair

and apple-dipped nails.

Doesn't he know

her eyes are too sweet?

and her lips will go sour

when she feels the heat,

of another flame tugging her sleeve? 

Cherries

I'm listening to him again

i guess thats why I miss you.

I want to turn this river 

into an ocean.

I wan to throw my heart 

back on your floor.

It's too damd hot

and I need something to lose.

But life is good enough,

like lipstick on your skin

Because I cant imagine

tasting anyone but you. 

Quietly Falling

You spit cold like you mean it

but your too numb to repeat it.

Digging holes that you sleep in

and you can't wish them away.

Fleshy webbing rots separately 

from your polyester core

which quietly crackles sad goodbyes. 

Your falling into abandon's tricky arms.

And as you crawl back 

to gutter girls and cigarettes

tell me, are you o.k. with what you've got?

White Trash Beautiful

Like saturn's seven moons,

your falling feet make circles.

Your skin's tucked in

to the subtle grace of gravity

and my breath is in your lungs.

Please show me slowly,

what I only know the limits of.

Run me down,

while I'm blinded by the sun.

Your white trash beautiful,

take me while I'm young. 

Stupid

I knew somehow

when you looked up and over me,

that you wanted 

to sweep away the town.

Before you made a sound,

I saw you reach through the rain

for the devil's feet.

As you tore through the tall grass

I felt something deceptive

coiled in your step.

But only the fools and the gods

churn the ocean for calyx 

So do as you like with me.

May it bring you peace.