Friday, July 31, 2009

Monday, July 27, 2009

Eggs, Spinach, and Feta

An omelet will have to do.

There will be no hazy kisses
to neck, breasts, and fingers
served like breakfast
in bed. Friends let
other friends
sleep in.

He will tiptoe
to the kitchen where
hungry fingers
will tickle nipple
lids upon heated rims


Wednesday, July 22, 2009

It Won't Be Thanksgiving Without Wild Game

For Breece DJ Pancake

Winter's a God damned thief.

There is nothing left of the farm
but skin and bones;
the white dust of first frosts,
twitching skeletal oaks,
and corn brought to its knees
begging for mercy.

Take your rifle
and storm the grey light.

Bring back death
slung over one shoulder
skinned, dressed, and ready
for skillet

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

A Neck is Bleeding Italian Silk

Red on curved course
it spills from
to chest
and pools upon pillows.

Her hair sticks to it
but choking
laughter softens the gore.

Too tired to undress,
I gather it between fingers

and collect the mess
until she
is cleared
of its delicate