#AmericanWriters
My man is Black Golden Amber Cha… Warm mouths of Brandy Fine Cautious sunlight on a patterned r… Coughing laughter, rocked on a whi… Graceful turns on woolen stilts S…
We were entwined in red rings Of blood and loneliness before The first snows fell Before muddy rivers seeded clouds Above a virgin forest, and
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big jok… A dance that’s walked A song that’s spoke,
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
There is no warning rattle at the… nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer… Safe in the dark prison, I know t… light slides over the fingered work of a toothless
Her arms semaphore fat triangles, Pudgy hands bunched on layered hip… Where bones idle under years of fa… And lima beans. Her jowls shiver in accusation
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans