Monthly Archives: September 2011

Ciao, Bella

This is the island
from where I send out
bottles of an endless
supply found in the ship
of drunks from which I
came to this island
from where I send out
bottles sparkling
crystal green each day
passengers of languid waves
going toward your place.
This is the island
from where I send out
bottles to anyone
who will always be you in which
the messages are varying declarations
of I love you, I still
love you, I will
always love you
or sometimes
merely

S

O

S

This is the island
where you are not now
and will never be
any more than the vampire
I was so sure
would arrive to take me away
on the day of
my thirtieth birthday.


men are

ken doll chests contradicting
themselves with fuzzy
hair and cool, firm clay
to lay your head upon
and close your eyes.

hands shaped from granite, sculpted
by standards, goals,
and expectations
that lose their shape
and become formless
to hurt you
when they’re angry
or yield fingers
to touch
and hold you when
you please them.

plump bottom lips
with tiny lines
that split them while
sleeping or suffer themselves
as tightropes spewing
hurtful things
when they split yours.

adonis thighs,
ice sculpture photographs
of marathon
running – and running
out when you
need them, falling
down stairs
to a busted up tooth,
a broken bank account,
and a sleepless night
watching porn
while you sleep tossing
in the bed you share
alone.


Copy of Your Vagina

There is no such thing as love.
Only degrees of sexual attraction
and the horrible things
we do to each other
when the novelty
wears off.