Monday, March 30, 2009

"i'm gonna float up in the ceiling;
i built a levee of the stars,
and in my field of tired horses
i built a freeway through this farce.

well, if i ever get that slumber
i`ll be that mole deep in the ground,
&i won`t be found."

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

heavy boots.

they said he was in the air.
mom said she held his hands.
dad said he`s ready to go.
it takes about 3 days total, i think.

i say he knows more than we ever will.

Monday, March 23, 2009

black lamb

“I remember the jeans I was wearing the afternoon you bruised my heart. How I could peer over my denim hearted knees into the watery oblivion just feet below my dangling laces. I remember your honestly ambiguous words and I wondered if even you knew what your mouth was saying. How that fisherman’s hairy forearm could have canvassed an anchor or at least an “I love Mom” tattoo, but it didn’t. I remember the sky growing darker as you attached a feathered lure to my heart, plopped it into the ocean and fumbled to grab the reel carelessly propped at the edge of the pier. How easily it fell over and how lazily you watched it fall! I remember how you said I could push you in, the same way you did to me, but different. How I haven’t quite taken you up on that yet. I remember you said something about your dad dying, how you needed time to figure life out. I remember that I promised to wait. How you didn’t want me to. I remember asking to hold your hand before we left. How homesick I felt that night. I remember feeling sorry for myself; refusing forgiveness. ‘How he deserves it!’ I thought. I remember walking around Florida in one afternoon, kissing every piece I ever cursed. How much of life I have taken for granted. I remember noticing someone new for the first time in a long time. How hopefull a heart half-healed can be.”

Friday, March 20, 2009


at one point the light in your
&the light in my
met, just for a few seconds,

bought me a taco,
tossed me in the grass,
rubbed my belly


Friday, March 6, 2009

soda water

You loved her better than he ever could,
resting my ear quietly on your boyish chest,
counting off the beats: (onetwo, onetwo)
of your well-tempered heart.

Pairing blades of grass:
(onetwo, onetwo,)
greens & yellows.
I am sorry for this.

For hurting you with
innocent onetwos, and lazy waltzes
over your papa`s hard-wooded floor,
tapping out the beat with
bare feet--
care full of toes,

One day we will walk back to
the same home together,
counting off our steps in

&write our own lazy waltzes,
in the carpeted cozy of very own living rooms,
not so care full any more of




Tuesday, March 3, 2009


When I was younger, I used to have night terrors. You know, those sneaky, scary, terrifying thoughts that creep into your head after the sun sets down. I don`t think I was able to have sleep over parties away from home until I was about twelve. This one time, my mom came and picked me up around 11pm, because I "wanted to sleep in my own bed." Really I just wanted her. Eventually though, all little girls grow up. &I wasn`t so afraid of sleepovers any more. So much so that I decided to invite myself to a 4 year one. And, mostly, I'm not so afraid. But sometimes, on occasion, I wake up from a night terror. &right then I wish I could ask Mrs. SoandSo to call my mom to come pick me up. But then I remember it would take a few days for her to get here.
I know you`re tired of being alone; you`ll be safe with me.
So I lie back down &wait for the morning.