Monthly Archives: November 2016

To Parish

a tree killed a cousin of mine

on the third month of last year

when the mornings were still getting used to waking without fields of crystals,

gifts brought in by bitter nights. 

when he was still getting used to being born,

and taking long walks through mountain trails to deal with that burden.

perhaps trees deal with similar burdens and perhaps they long to take those walks.

on that day, at that exact time, on the same burden-ridden trail, a tree found it’s voice. 

finally, the courage to have a voice, and express that voice.

a cracking, newly found voice in the form of a declaration 

to the mountains and to those fellow travelers who pass through there

about how life and death are directly linked to love and time, 

and we exist,

in the space where our love is greater, 

for more time than we exist out of it…

death isn’t fateful or ironic

it’s necessary and probable.

Carpentry Blues

there was a time when you sat across from me 

(in a chair, 

made by hands, 

made by sex, 

made by love, 

made by a story you’ll never know)

and I thought

about a story we could write, 

made by our hands, 

made by… 

and I heard you say, “I can’t wait to fuck you.” 

and I’ll hear you 

and know that you meant what you said 

and you didn’t mean, “I’ll make a chair for you.” 

Incense 

when the last bits of my body were smoldering, 

my mother’s corpse had already benefited the livelihood of earthworms and milkweeds

for over twenty years. 

“I” caught a westward breeze and floated with random precision 

towards an old solar power plant. 

if my smell had been more pleasing,

some may have said that I was a symbol of communication 

with a higher power. 

the remaining essence of my legacy could have been used in ritual

to help reassure an ancient people that death really wasn’t all that bad 

or that they were more important than they seemed. 

sometimes it’s easier to find solace in the knowledge 

that one day you’ll be able to fly. 

“My Dear Eddy” 

Since as far back as I can remember , 

I’ve had  a secret wish

To be nearly drowned 

In an ocean, 

Black as the void that wraps us up 

Tightly in it’s eternal embrace. 

I’ll imagine myself

Swept up into that great force

(Which perhaps has changed to blue) 

Then spiraling downwards, 

Eyes wide,  

Completely breathless –

Into the place that I fear the most 

But will never stop yearning for 

Emotional Premonitions 

It occurred to me, 

Suddenly and without any

Forewarning. 

The audacity of my own heart to 

Openly speak with me 

Without any illumination, 

To simply just say it’s truth, 

And beat, 

Beat, 

Beat away, 

Leaving a bloody trail for him 

To slip on, while he lumbers out my door 

Feeling hopeful, or maybe even at ease.  

I had told him he looked at me funny. 

He asked, “How?” 

I said, “In awe”.