☆

2012-02-01T16:38:00.000-08:00

cygnet: baby swan

2012-01-11T16:25:00.000-08:00

aged four or younger, stripped and sobbing

in the shower with a man who ain't yr daddy

2012-01-10T20:52:00.000-08:00

my golden girl

high priestess of dirty needles

2012-01-04T21:13:00.000-08:00

i don't want to be your tumor anymore

in a past life i was stillborn, baptized by grief. i'm always

feeling guilty for what i don't quite recall.

mama

i'm paying for it

i'm paying

2011-12-21T17:12:00.000-08:00

crushed beneath the gaze of Christ

he exhausts me

i disappoint him

2011-12-06T20:47:00.000-08:00

2011-11-29T17:14:00.000-08:00

i've been sleeping,
sucking on my thumb again
-
trying to get back to
you

2011-10-27T14:31:00.000-07:00

slow drip * 、。。

beaten black and blue

from the inside

now, i can only be thought

of as a bruise

2011-10-24T12:29:00.000-07:00

2011-10-14T21:21:00.000-07:00

i've got a blister from touching everyone i see:
the abyss opens up; it steals everything from me

2011-10-09T17:59:00.000-07:00

:will the choir girls still sing with their throats slit open?

:yes, though never in heaven

2011-09-29T21:00:00.000-07:00

i never intended
* to survive

2011-09-25T21:02:00.000-07:00

2011-09-24T21:51:00.000-07:00

you are swallowing all my stars

the moon will

( hang

herself)

when she sees what

you have done

2011-09-24T18:41:00.000-07:00

i want to be a shadow

2011-09-23T21:52:00.000-07:00

what i meant to tell you was
that some memories are sweet
& others, just scars. i'll always
be your favorite, but you know
i couldn't wake up if i tried.

do you still dream of that loss :

(or is it buried, too)

i'm at the
bottom of
the lake
and
i
love
you

2011-09-20T19:29:00.000-07:00

2011-09-17T21:17:00.001-07:00

2011-09-17T21:14:00.000-07:00

your maggot-eyed girl:

encased inside a dead

heaven.

a certain terror or tear

the clouds will burst under all this weight

ͭ ͪ ᵉ ᶳᵏʸ ᶤᶳ ᶮᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵍ ͬ ᵃᶹᵉ

2011-09-16T22:49:00.000-07:00

my faithful darling, my seet-eyed blackguard schoolgirl,

be my whore, my mistress, as much as you like

(my little frigging mistress! My little fucking whore!)

you are always my beautiful wild flower of the hedges,

my dark-blue rain-drenched flower.

(i don't want this anymore)

2011-09-11T21:53:00.000-07:00

2011-09-11T21:19:00.000-07:00

★

★


☾

  ☆

2011-09-10T21:13:00.000-07:00

ͪ ᵉ ᶜᵃᶯᶯᵒᵗ ͪ ᵉᵃͬ ᶸᶳ ᵃᶮᵞᵐᵒͬᵉ

he has stopped listening

2011-09-10T14:20:00.000-07:00

gone

2011-09-09T09:59:00.000-07:00

2011-09-04T22:16:00.000-07:00

i purge the stars

2011-09-03T22:43:00.000-07:00

⸗☆

i have never felt so small; where are my wings?

2011-09-02T19:58:00.000-07:00

the wind that makes your hair grow faster

opens a child’s mouth full of strawberry and sand.

your name, called into the wind, slows the wind down.

when a body is ripe, it falls and rots from the softest spot.

only when a child slips and drops off a tree,

the tree suddenly learns that it is barren.

2011-09-02T19:49:00.000-07:00

2011-09-02T18:53:00.000-07:00

: Death is not a lover
: Oh yes he is.

2011-09-02T11:32:00.000-07:00

What is her skin?
Her skin is composed of strange clothing and clouds of butterflies,
of events and odors, of the rose fingers of dawn, transparent suns of full
daylight, blue loves of dusk and night fish with huge eyes.

What is dust?

Does the child suffer? The child is suffering.

Is the child cruel? The child crushes the world at will, the child destroys

with angelic decorum, the child bleeds into his own drinking water

and smiles to see color a demon and delirium the child is born knowing

and screaming and there is pain in his fist when he enters and there is

pain as if the atoms which whirl mad in their completeness were tiny

childbirths and it is the cruelty of children which presses upon the

innocent earth and coal turns to diamond.

2011-08-30T18:32:00.000-07:00

2011-08-30T18:27:00.000-07:00

i know that you are young, but
please, don't be foolish: your
cunt shines brighter than your
h e a rt ever could
remember this
and tell me
(without tears)
of each and every bruise you
come home with, on any
given night of the week

all little girls play with fire;

in every child, a tendency

*** to rot

2011-08-29T21:47:00.000-07:00

your mouth as necessary on mine as rain on the desert
(i remember thirst).
i remember unloading guns beneath a complex heaven
(they cut into my dreams).
i remember how bitterness tasted
(it was something sweet).

now in the black black behind you sleep
i am trying to hold your oceans
i am struggling to sparkle in your sky
i will collect snowfalls in my arms
and watch them unfold.

in the north, you ache with loss

and wish for a sick day

to curl yourself away and cry.

the warmth of your voice

now burnt with loss

and everyone knows.

everyone knows you are far too far

too transparent

to hide away such a wanting.

now whom is needed

and whom is needful?

you are older than i

but hand your small self over

-- a bird nestling into my hand.

i am broken, i am broken

you say as i stroke you to sleep.

making the day's tea of desperation

i know you are sterling.

no, i won't tell them.

no, i won't share you.

i am killing myself trying not to care.

let me throw you deep into the stars
so you can see your heaven
and speak to your dead.

(lay on me the hands that never kill.
stain my skin with breath
laced in coolth and stun.
trace my form in the dark until it glows.)

come here little bird

let me lick your feathers back.

come here to your complicated cat.

i have done my best to steer you away

now i swim in blame and sleep in fear.

when we go public, my china bird

i'll tell you the story.

when you hurt me

i won't let it show.

2011-08-29T11:38:00.000-07:00

every time that i stare into
the sun: angel dust and my
dress just comes undone

2011-08-28T11:03:00.000-07:00

2011-08-28T10:45:00.000-07:00

2011-08-27T23:56:00.000-07:00

2011-08-26T22:09:00.000-07:00

"i hate myself for what i became
in order to escape what i hated
being."

2011-08-26T22:00:00.001-07:00

2011-08-26T21:57:00.000-07:00

2011-08-26T21:41:00.000-07:00

I know a boy who called his girlfriend’s body a “crime scene.” Dad, my body is a crime scene. My body is lint and gasoline and matchstick. My body is a brush fire.
It’s ticking, Dad, a slow alarm. I have rain boots. Lots of them. It isn’t raining anymore. The words are coming back, Dad. The way they fit and jump in the mouth.
I want ice cream and long letters. I want to read long love letters but I don’t think he loves me. I think I’m used up. I think I’m the grit under his nails, the girl who looks
good in pictures. I don’t think he loves me. I think they broke me, Dad. I think I drink too much and it’s because they broke me. I heard about two girls recently, two
women crushed like cherries in a boy’s jaw. It opened me, Dad. My body is melted wax, it is ripe and stink and bent. It is a mistake. I walk like an apology. I don’t
hate men, Dad, I don’t. I want a washing machine. I want someone else to do the dishes, someone to walk the dog. I have a hornet in my head, Dad. A hornet. She’s
an angry bitch – she hurls herself against my skull. She stings. And stings. I know I don’t make sense, Dad. This is the problem. I’m a sick girl, a crazy wishbone. I
have razors under my tongue. I’m sorry I cut you, Dad, I’m so—so sorry. I gave you a card for Father’s Day once, it said you were my hero. You are. Your laugh
is a thunderclap, you love like surgery. I think they broke me, Dad. I can’t erase their faces. I want to swim, Dad. Remember when I used to hopscotch? I used to make
you laugh. My feet are hot. The bottoms of my feet are scorched sand, August asphalt. My body is a slug, a mob of sticky wet rot. No one touches me anymore because
I’m rot. Because my body is a spill no one wants to clean up. They cracked me open, Dad, I know you don’t want to hear about it. You don’t want to hear how they
scissored me, how they gnawed me like raw meat. No one wants to hear how they made me drink lemon juice, how they kicked the dog, how they upturned the furniture,
no one wants to hear how my skin turned to a dark thick of purple and black and lead. I watch the homeless a lot, Dad. I watched a man with a cup of coins and chips of skin
carved out of his face. He had freckles. He needs medicine, Dad. He needs to stop the hornet. My body is a hive. I am red ants and jellyfish. A yellow sickness. My body
is a used condom in an alley in Jersey City. I don’t think he loves me, Dad. My body is a fetus in biohazard tank. A Polaroid pinned to a corkboard in Brooklyn. I think I’m
hurt, Dad. I think I was the tough girl for too long. My body is a wafer, a thin, soft melt on a choir boy’s tongue.

2011-08-26T21:24:00.000-07:00

2011-08-26T21:09:00.000-07:00

MA FILLE

Ma fille, ma douce
on serait si bien

parmi les coquilles
sans plus voir jamais

les arbres qui montent
auraient du souci

mais nous dans la terre
on dormirait mieux

ma fille, ma douce
j’ai trop attendu

dis-moi que tu m’aimes
j’écoute, je viens.

MY DAUGHTER

My daughter, my sweet
we would be so well

among the shucked shells
seeing nevermore

the trees which climb
would have cares

but we in the earth
would sleep better

my daughter, my sweet
I waited too long

tell me that you love me
I listen, I come.

2011-08-26T21:04:00.000-07:00

2011-08-26T20:47:00.000-07:00

recall the sound the angels
made and how we tore it
from their throats
+
when we loosen our fists
heaven will already be
☆ gone