When death fell asleep between my legs
One arm slung over my knee
I pulled her up to my leaking breasts
And heard her grind her teeth

—

Does not inhabit herself
Stun guns of solar hair and eye flash hide her age
Born in a mirror in water precariously unheld
Will never die

—

Sometimes runeface spreads
Wind wrinkling a lake
Dolphins flipping at eyes and mouth

Sometimes a crucifix
Nose the bent of spine
Splayed veins from eyebolts

—

A bit inconvenient
To die just to drop

This sticky lover
That loveless parent

If only one could just get plastic surgery
Change lives behind the shrubbery

—

Not fair

I get older so
Do you I
Never catch

Up you train me
For your death

To my patterns you do
Patterns I want something

To shock you
My namesake tree

To drop all its leaves
In the center of spring

Remind me what
I gain by being here

Love me in a hurry

—

Our granaries flowed with deposits of sweetest kernels
Like squirrels we were the saviors of a future
In winter’s clamp we siphoned liqueurs using deep-stemmed waterlilies
Returning to redeem we found brittle rock-sugar
Clouded air traps
Ice spikes
Fossil prints

—

Whenever I open my mouth: crater

Blisters I take for moonwalking shoes

Sentries out the front
Slips at the backdoor

The bloat floats

Fatwrapped
Fleafeeling

—

Two people have a third person between them
One of them is always responsible for her disappearance

Parched beehives in their stomachs they look everywhere

Lightning and smoke form duration in the I Ching clouds
She won’t say shoo

poetry-magazineMy Old Woman

My Old Woman