Horse Hair Skier

Your nails still refuse to drag along my skin. Snow leopard. You... Your nails retracted, tongue curled, folded. Padding away into a mountains dark crevices. Where I, kokburu player, goat tosser extraordinaire, mad skier across Tuvan skies, lasso in hand and elk before me... am still not allowed to pursue. My rope whipping out, unanswered, quivering, inept.


When you painted me eggs for breakfast, the little cute ones - smiley faces, mustached, some crowned some done up on little crucifixes made of bone, sinew, spit and tears, my first reaction was one of hollow, righteous indignation, rage. I wanted to hurl them at the sky, smash passing birds, distract airplanes and bring … Continue reading Iconic

Some Perishable…

...elusive... maddening... tulip... that apple... that passion fruit. That brilliance. This rainy dream, impossible, thought possible (self-denier, dumb dreamer, that I...) but for a note about plums, triggering that note about this ending. It's bruising I thought I (tough skinned and all) would be sour, bitter But not this breaking skin.


Scudding in metal tubes, breathing in recycled breaths. Spinning turnstiles, merry go rounds, bladed pinwheels. My hands cut open by edged receipts, boarding passes, desperate sketches from forlorn children... missed baseball games, concerts, birthdays and... that soup of missed connections, strange coin, the stares of strangers. Uncomfortable fat neighbor spilling over armrest, we're moaning as … Continue reading Air