A Friend/a Snake

In a way you could say that I am more pulp than pit or skin. When people try to hold me in their hands they all too often drop me, like they expected something firm and plush, a gift from any tree to trust but I just drip around their fingers and form to their […]

The Dread of Knowing

You stand before the plate glass window considering the black wet trees with stark limbs and the leaves are like suffering women and silent men Everything draped with funeral cloth and white mist Baby mind breathing sounds on a cold day You pick her up horizontally like a tiny arrow and you slide her through […]

Name Dropper

I’m a name dropper.  We’re all name droppers … barking on all fours at the feet of the well-know, people just like us except they’re better looking, luckier, richer, probably more fucked up. Cheryl Tiegs, the model, you remember her, right?  I asked her if she’d mind if I took my pants off in order […]

Autobiography

(in a stream of consciousness, in threes.) Dirt road Shanty home and Second hand clothes like coming up with nothing makes a person feel like anything is possible, like I could be the only Disney princess with a body bathed in dust, head adorned with a little crown of purple flowers, belly full of bologna […]

Peach/Pit

I thought I ate that bleeding peach enough times for my chin to stain a sour shade of pink. I can’t recall, the moments fell like towers- but did I grind the pit into a powder? Pressed beneath the skin like all the hours you never spoke to me. And every grain of it is […]