#AmericanWriters
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that
Beloveds, now we know that we know… Without notice, our dear love can… In the instant that Michael is go… Though we are many, each of us is… Only when we confess our confusion…
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
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’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone
Pretty women wonder where my secre… I’m not cute or built to suit a fa… But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say,
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
When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Marked the mastodon, The dinosaur, who left dried token… Of their sojourn here
You drink a bitter draught. I sip the tears your eyes fight to… A cup of lees, of henbane steeped… Your breast is hot, Your anger black and cold,
We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of lonelines… until love leaves its high holy te… and comes into our sight