Leave October

Red yellow orange

October leaves under our feet

Swirling drifting crunching

Fluttering round our heads

Whispering tickling bursting

Blocking out the sky with their kaleidescopes

Laughing strolling leaning

Wanting to feel your breathe above me

Shifting gathering breaking

Dreaming of burying ourselves in fallen grace

Orange yellow red

We were the October leaves, under our feet

Something beautiful
And already dead

Good on paper

If you saw me strolling down the street, all grey-sky-eyed and meandering, you might want to know me
If you heard me laughing in another room, buoyant with absurdity, you might want to come join me
If you listened to me singing to myself, softly discordant, while I sewed a button on your coat, you might want to kiss me
If you watched me dancing, loose hipped and gleaming abandon, you might want to take me

If you found me breaking, mewling like a feral kitten overwhelmed with hours, you might want to save me

If I wrote my thoughts on parchment and let the wind drop them at you feet like falling leaves, you might want to love me
If you woke up next to me everyday for a year or two, tangled sheet bleary and morning grim, you will wish I would never wake again

So

I will keep strolling
I will keep laughing

I will keep singing

I will keep dancing

I will keep breaking

I will keep thinking
I will keep sleeping

And you should just keep walking on by

(unless you happen to be thinking

"Any storm in a port");

Collect 'Em All

See that quixotic clockwork doll?

Over-bright glass eyes,winking

Lower lashes against painted cheek, tickling

(Lashing?)

Threadbare stockings, slipping

Fetching velvet frock, unraveling

Corkscrew grin, beckoning

Head bent to hear an unasked question

Is she a charming toy?

Dancing, offbeat

To her private music

Of grinding gears

click clack whiiiiiirr click whiiiirrrrr clack

And coiled springs

click clack click whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiir click clump

Whirling round her dollhouse,

Laughing alone

Does she seem to have come undone?

Hear her whisper all her

Action figure aspirations

(Pose-able?)

To the faint reflections
In her tiny, shiny, gloss black shoes.

Disarrayed and dreaming,

She kisses her own hand and smiles

The Breakers, part 1

Kiss the back of my eyes

The place

Where the images never fade

But pulse like broken neon signs

That read "You can never forget"

Verite Verily

I started life raw and honest
But learned to hide it;
Then I was carefully, subtly truthful
And so very truly tired.
I crawled into bed and told my stories to the ceiling.

Now I hold honesty up to the light

And caress it with swords

A beacon to my ideal

A way to breathe again (harder harder)

The Post It Note Blues

Reclined and naked

Listening to the Cool Drink of Water Blues

Post-coital

Post-punk-rock-plaid
Post-red-raincoat-nude

Post-throbbing

Post-Fuck-Me-heels

Post-breath-on-my-neck

Post-synch

Post-ebb-and-flow

Post-come-on-my-cock

Post-dreaming
Post- confession

Post-smile-in-your-sleep

Post-Mortem.

Pre-Apocalypse.

Pity the world ended before we could break out the Howlin' Wolf and coloring books

Venus in Retrograde: Bits

A diary of ghosts.
The strange and insistent poetry of a fossil poking its way through the sand, a story to be told in its petrified bones.