Posted in Misc, Poetry


Where do all the books go in this house?
I swear I swallow them up and don’t spit them out. 


Posted in Misc, Poetry

12 mistakes on a monday morning

Stumble out,
the dawn is still grey, a sickly tinge cocooning your world,
but within the dead muffling is a pinprick of bright blood–

Everything is out of order:
this routine,
the coffee machine,
and the shower hisses reluctant at this early waking.

Fingers through the snarls in heavy, wet hair;
it is almost blade-sharp,
beneath the three days’ unwashed glaze,
and not even the spitting water can clean the ink spots from your fingers.

The towel wilts, smelling of yesterday,
chicken coop, not swan down,
and slickness spills you to your knees on the wet tiled floor.

Stumble out,
rinse, repeat.

Posted in Misc, Poetry


do you know what joy is?
here, let me tell you:
it is a slow dribbling lap-lap-lap of waves on shores,
little lapping rising to great swells,
pink-red noses, pink-red cheeks,
great heaving

do you know what grief is?
here, let me tell you:
it hits like the clap of thunder on a summer-charged night,
punch to the gut and flashes of light,
pink-red noses, pink-red eyes,
great heaving,

Posted in Misc, Poetry

september ii

How things circle:
Two, three, four eagles, lazy curlicues against grey clouds
Wait for their moment to strike.
I wonder what waits below them-
Did it quiver?
Did it scream?
No matter, no matter.
Late rain will wash it away.

happy blogaversary to this little nook of the internet, and digital cake to all its wonderful followers!

Posted in Misc, Poetry


the sky has not been the same since it
began to bleed the other night,
the june downpour a strange rust-red glimmering.
the ground was watered with the
diamond scales of the monsoon’s dragon,
once long-necked and graceful, once
benevolent and beautiful, and now
half-mad with a frenzy of storm and drought. and now,
the farmers wear jute-woven necklaces;
they cannot sow with jewels.