Blue-Aged Love

Blue-Aged Love

I search for you like a lost lover of jazz, I find you in the dim as you play a deceiver of love, where love is never free prices to pay at every bank vault. Waiting for musical clouds to form in all the shapes we always talked about. A feeble goodness shining phosphorescent on the future; I know…

I Was Told to Ignore the Abuse

I Was Told to Ignore the Abuse

They told me to ignore the words you said, “Don’t let him get to you. Try a different way of being. Be different; let him know you want him. He is just frightened of commitment. He will calm down soon.” I started to see your entitled feelings; I think they are reasonable and justified. He loves me. He wants me. I…

It’s All My Fault

It’s All My Fault

They say “the body remembers.” Somewhere in my mind, the intrusive sound of the soles of men’s sensible shoes slapping onto the shiny floors throughout the corridors still haunts me now and then. Sitting on a shelf labeled “incongruity,” the sudden thunder of racing footsteps filling the hushed, echoey hallways of the hospital gathers dust in my mind, year…

A Poem for International Women’s Day

A Poem for International Women’s Day

Lilith, goddess guardian, first one to raise arms and plant feet downward. Enheduanna, I pay tribute to you. Golden signatures trickle down on miscellaneous temple hymns in honor of their presence. No time but now to salvage remains, original calligraphy to support descendants. Sappho, you underrated Greek beauty, as ancient as solar discovery. Numbering your verses for our eyes,…

12 Everyday Sexist & Misogynistic Things That Men Need To Stop Doing

12 Everyday Sexist & Misogynistic Things That Men Need To Stop Doing

In 2012, writer and activist Laura Bates founded her groundbreaking website The Everyday Sexism Project with the distinct purpose of providing a place where women from all walks of life could share and relate their daily experiences with normalised sexism and misogyny. The project has been an enormous success and a viral phenomenon with the resultant book, “Everyday Sexism,”…

Sounding

Sounding

Words sometimes settle between thighs. Eye up—all night think how I don’t your shoulder brush, cough don’t, you away, leg. I don’t acknowledge your mouth when you’re talk -ing, how can you? Talking such silence between an affect. Sounding pangs liquid off every windshield tears the sky open. Tears, tears. Tears flesh like zipper like soft adjutant in a…

EMBERS AND ASH

EMBERS AND ASH

I wrote EMBERS AND ASH some years ago. I don’t remember the precise day; I only remember the unlucky circumstance. I needed to come home. I was unwell. Truth? I was out of my fucking mind, and the only person I wanted, needed and trusted was the one who birthed me. Her ferocious, constant, capable mother-love was the only…

Excavate

Excavate

You touch me and I give way You wrap your arms around me My back against your chest And I lean back, Oh how I lean and bend against you My skin against yours has me making sounds that are not my own You have awoken something in me Something unfamiliar But someone I remember You have disturbed the…

Last Act of Love

Last Act of Love

I knew the problem was serious when Greg could not muster the energy to get himself to the ice cream shop at the end of the street. This daily expedition had become his afternoon treat to cool off from the summer heat. We were in Australia to spend Christmas with our daughter. The sun was fierce, and I tried…

Not 1937 but 1972

Not 1937 but 1972

For Olds… for Bruck We aren’t shaped things like our moms’ hairdos So round so golden so smooth like this guy’s ego He says better not have that cheeseburger better not have that chocolate malted — And your thighs chafe like hers… so what — so, skinny is Holocaust rated. * Be as big as a bouffant sister and…

POLITICALLY CORRECT

POLITICALLY CORRECT

Who may tell her story? Who has earned the right? What if she’s come and gone? Has no tongue, no eyes, no hands? Must one wear her skin, eat from her bowl Fight nightmare’s demons on her sleeping mat just to feel the Rhythm of her heart? Aren’t we all borne by the moon As she orbits her beloved…

For the Jukebox that Won’t Stop Playing the National Anthem

For the Jukebox that Won’t Stop Playing the National Anthem

the sultry ode composed of smashed teeth, blood stained glass, hammer-fist dents, ready to turn public spaces into choral asylums, turn town squares into scorched earth & blast the blistering notes of nationalism, numbing the ear drums in the worst of ways, we howl like drunk men in wolves clothing, and try to taint our Palettes with the taste…

“a plea”

“a plea”

maybe you will want to love another more than you could love me. so i ask of you, please do not let her name be written at the end of your list. don’t let her fall to the back burner, or at the very least, let her sit on the stove. do not address her as your love and…

Two Tall Women in NYC

Two Tall Women in NYC

Losing my identity was not in our plan. Mary and I came to the big city to celebrate finishing our books—my psychological thriller and her memoir of love and loss in Zimbabwe. Starving on San Diego’s thin cultural gruel, our reward was to be a week of feasting on New York’s finest art, theater, and music. Hellhole police stations…

Vestal Valentine

Vestal Valentine

What love I’ve known I found on knees, by chance between iniquities. Fingers confined a backwards prayer, cutaneous chants without my underwear. Vestments, red wine a rosary, entwined lithe wrists you lead to liturgy, to genuflect before an altar, bare, a deity I wed in collar, chestnut hair. Services sworn in ballet veil, sanguine stilettos, flesh paraded, pale through congregants, dark fairytale.…

Please Pick Up Your Trash

Please Pick Up Your Trash

A cigarette bowed from my lips, burnt on one side as I sucked, to even embers. The alley painted with ‘fuck you’ was where I went with my needle, baiting. Sat on a stained mattress to poke and stick a heart and arrow on pink skin exposed by the hole in my jeans that had been there ten years.…

WANTING

WANTING

blindfolded adrift on a wave of lust shameless consumption grows strong in my desert that turned to dust slinking past watchful eyes writhing under greedy grasps flowers bloom fragranced musk dust swirls blown away echoing my moans harder still not yet engulfed waterfalls drenching the dry earth of my inner woman unknown fingers play in a secret place my…

Caught

Caught

I do not know if I should cut my hair. It is very long. Some people call it obscenely long. It’s the color of wheat, and very often air dried so that it falls in irregular waves down to just above my thighs. When I brush it, the brush seems miniature and gets very heavy in my hands, as…

A Single Rose is Survival

A Single Rose is Survival

Thorn-clad stem extends from outstretched hand peace offering, a symbol of old-time romance you don’t reach out to accept, continue staring at lucid dreamscape painted across one wall no way to tell if it’s a product of magic or real this mermaid staring back at you, holding your gaze you have fallen into her embrace of gentle eyes; evokes…

glass ceiling

glass ceiling

i’ve never been close to knowing how high the roof might be, before it could take my head off, until it will scalp me tomorrow evening shrunken heads go on and on laughing — can’t stop ‘em for Christ’s sake i’m obliterate here people! rolling through puke — wet linoleum, must i launder things get thrown under bus tires;…

The Tapestry Of Our Lives

The Tapestry Of Our Lives

Art lives inside the silver fox gray of an unruly beard and disheveled hair reaching for the clouds Bringing them down in a floating fluff of white light onto the canvas Art breathes through the patient, observant eyes of an old cerulean soul Beauty lives inside the mysterious deep dive and painter’s brushstroke Ocean hues uncharted and centuries wise…

Nectar of the Extreme

Nectar of the Extreme

unwind the gossamer binding tare self imposed chastity to shreds slip inside finger my essence rattle my being genuine appetite disclosed shake me slowly quake hidden yearning the volcanic eruption reveals the depth of my propensity unabashed brazenly exposed my psyche hid the merciless ravine of sensuality a caged animal imprisoned by shame ravenous craving never satiated extreme hunger emaciated…

Death’s Mementos

Death’s Mementos

Mom woke me up late one night by rubbing my shoulder and whispering: “Whit, get up. There’s a full moon. Come into the living room.” She and Dad had quietly pulled the box holding my telescope out from under my bed and set it up. I had become interested in the stars and moon around age seven, so my…

Diffraction

Diffraction

She senses it, anticipates it, as it’s preceded by a look; His eyes are on her, even though she doesn’t meet his gaze. His hands smoothing her hair down her back, he kisses her lips. His breathing warm, softly delivering “You’re so beautiful” into the curve of her neck. He doesn’t know his energy for her will never reach…

Angry Woman

Angry Woman

I am an angry woman, not pretty angry, not cute angry, but dragon hungry angry, lipstick smeared all over my face angry, twilight dying angry, box cutter to my skin angry, skin wailing, burning angry, when I said no and you cried and said, “Don’t you love me anymore,” angry. I could eat a whole house snarling angry, white…

Her Side

Her Side

There are two-sided arrows pointing toward her spotted heart, a restless one and a mournful one damned one for her lover of the cracked truant night; the one who escaped her hanging who loved her blinding outbursts cried over her first laughed at the wit and charm another aim for the one who stayed put, her faithful man towards…