you will speak when spoken to hollow tin cans washed and stored for emergency calls the sacred wonder to be visible behind the jellyfish spine i spoke you heard no sound soap scum lines the rim of my mind careless words left caressing sores better left behind lies all of them left you before i…
And automatically, the words became sentences, with stems and petals. Forced from the fertile soil, stories grew arms and legs. They not only held her dreams but they carried her to lands far away. People have no idea what’s going on in my head. Most days i wish i didn’t either.
i accidently drank bottled, spiced rum witnessed my second birth entering breeched and worn out faulty
who am i heard you say chaos exists in silence wayward be in shadow’s cloak ruptures
this weekend in Chicago is invigorating. it’s cold and light snow fell. ice crusts the shore. broken spaces release the energy. being with another person is confining. we rarely agree because i am slow, quiet and want to savor the feelings the sounds and sights produce. he is fast, loud and out of touch. annoyed…
The Broken Bridge and the Dream, (excerpt) Dali, 1945 sitting in my favorite chair wandering mind -curious wondering how i got so far away from home.
Do i dare emerge from -shadows, drink deep from the well? Wind clappin’ slappin’ my face You offer -me am i real? a figment of our imagination? Wind clappin’ slappin’ my face Drink deep -crimson less the world worn and heavy rape your soul. Wind clappin’ slappin’ my face Save yourself.
don’t drink her poison Unfurled -awaiting this Holy precipice, divulged lover cloying, but not sweet -heavy church bells rung three.
Winter Garden 12/9/2017 Act I: Enchantment wild fairies stir the pot stone-cold vibrations