Friday, July 24, 2009

Lightning Coming from Somewhere

I’m trying to be good,
but now I have a book with an inscription,
a storm to rumble through the sea of my sheets,
teeth that clench, clench, clench their way
through night and straight on ‘till morning.

I am awake.

I’ve got a fever that gallops through my body,
rising up from the nape of my neck,
flushing my face, granting me the joy
of hearing my own pulse,
sharp as arrowheads in my ears.

You’re a cherry-blister on my palm,
a wailing garbage truck at five a.m.,

the humidity wound up in my hair
which I try and calm before I go out,
before people see that I’ve got
lightning coming from somewhere

cloud-to-ground, cloud-to-cloud,

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

As Fast as Rockets

I’ve got bushel baskets of hearts,
the wood stained raspberry-red,
juice pooling in the bed of this wagon.

Things like this don’t just happen,
they collide, slip and stumble
across slick floors, meteor-fall
into your lap, stain your hands
when you try to cradle them,
pat them dry like soft berries.

The magnetism of things interjects,
calls you out beneath the sheets,
rebels against your better judgment.

Your eyes are as blue as hotel pools,
your lips as tempting as having just one more.

This is an entanglement, a predicament,
a first-walk-on-the-moon
without enough air.

These boots will leave unmistakable prints--
tracks in the snow leading to my heart.

Love as fast as rockets.
We accelerate towards heartbreak.

Monday, July 13, 2009

All That Corn in Those Silos

I could use the kernels to count
all the times I've thought of you.