1. 29


    I forgot to note I’ll be on hiatus for the week gathering inspiration in the mountains of North Carolina. Lots of poetry to come….

  2. 3


    I spot her,
    blending with the green

    her long, thin arms and her curved abdomen
    look smooth and inviting
    as she calls me toward her,

    arms folding like Venus Traps.
    I can see your destiny, Love,

    she speaks to me,

    if you would like to see…
    And her eyes appear as
    green round fortune-tellers orbs

    so I trust her.

    I can see her vision expanding
    and she can see miles away

    through ruby roses,
    through canopies of branches, through me.

    She looks so poised and harmless,
    perched with her long green scythes folded
    like silk fans.

    I’m stuck in her gaze,

    her tiny jaws expand into a wide grin.
    And now I realize my destiny, too, as the components
    of her mouth razor through my body,

    razor through my skeleton.
    This is the way of Mother Nature,
    her bite assures me,

    and I am consumed in whole,
    as I give my body to her.

  3. 5078

Smokey’s house, Smokey’s rules. Only you can prevent wildfires!


    Smokey’s house, Smokey’s rules. Only you can prevent wildfires!

  4. 1

    Stone Breaking

    There is no blue world,

    only the time line

    and the place where you realize the stones mark your spot,

    tossed in when you

    aren’t paying attention

    stones kicked, axed, thrown, it doesn’t matter, the stones

    there can’t help you,

    when you fall from

    atmospheres you won’t be created, pressed into

    comets or sea glass,

    there is nothing.

    I wanted rescue and I wanted again,

    they know that the stones will break


    A trillion new tinging

    pink particles for the stars, upside down cycle

    made just for those

    ethereal skins

    hanging, fresh meat, above the clouds, salivation,

    ethereal mouths

    of multiple colors—

    does it matter? It’s the only thing that really worries them,

    destined to shape

    the helplessness of us.

  5. 23
    A New Reality Is Better Than a New Movie!

    A New Reality Is Better Than a New Movie!

  6. 4


    When you walk by the bay in the moon
    light at the witching hour, you

    don’t feel all the specters
    and walking along coquina sea wall—

    making shadow giants on the wall of
    the Castillo fort, acidic remains are invisible

    there were conquistadors here, once
    Matanzas where blood flowed as freely

    as the intracoastal. But all that matters now
    are tiny blood cells reaching through the apples

    under your eyes and the way the stars glint
    over the murdered and shelled explorers.

  7. 2


    We have to find it first, water trickling
    into his eyes, I let the mountain
    percolate in my stomach

    brisk air, enough to keep gypsies
    where no wanderer should go
    red-roofed rubies dance somewhere

    near his heart anticipation balloons
    amber bones dangle against caverns,
    not what I’m searching for

    find opaque quartz studded with
    gold, how were you created, what
    chemical reaction gave you such

    radiance? black water trickles across
    your eyes, now, minerals or guides,
     we can’t talk about it now

  8. 1


    Watermelon cubes
    filled up the plastic cup

    that was advertised as sangria
    watermelon cubes with dots of blueberries

    most of the cubes you spit at
    crows and passing cars,

    the pattern of the seeds warns us,
    oncoming rain showers

    gray and blue drops catch on
    his curled eyelashes, they look so long

    we make a break for it, find shelter
    under an abandoned ticket station

    the tin roof applauds our escape
    from the summer shower

    we wait for the drops to pass and
    watch as a crow pecks at a sparrow

    until the sparrow and the shower both
    stop rattling. The crow carries

    the limp sparrow into high branches
    of a nearby tree, then flies away.

  9. 4


    The Hourglass Issue featuring Jeremy Jones available August 1st, issuu.com/paperfinger

  10. 1


300ish days of writing.... For O'Hara!*
Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern--O'Hara
Page 1 of 246 Older


See more stuff I like