Monday, April 27, 2015

Audio Recording of Feeder Emptied

Audio Recording of as spring came

as spring came

the azaleas spoke but only god could hear them

you ached for a lasting warmth to lay in
you understood

lots of things: 

how to unearth a fossil in a hotbed: that time of the cow's rib, the saber tooth, 
the mandible: one bone every two to ten minutes: the luck

the sorrowful bees, the honey that oozed like molasses (from the troubled hive
where we met-- veiled-- your velvet voice a balm)

the sacredness of vowel sounds, drawn out from the mouth to god in hymns of

& yet the azaleas so early to bloom, spoke and didn't compare
themselves to the dandelions    to the roses     to anything & you understood, again

how like girls they are    blooming    tall &bright, even in Spring's early, harsh cold

Feeder emptied

          by the smartest of birds-- crows bully away with flapping
purple wings all the bright ones--- the blue, the red, all the winged who all ache
for seed-- a collective of need.

          When a sparrow flew in through the window the promiscuous woman with crowblack hair said A sparrow is a bad careful, and cued, my life split into shards of obsidian. Even now, I remember, remember the echoe of her omen. Had I not palmed away the cold

          feathers: body of sparrow and buried her in earth, would my life have been 
different—path paved in feathers and blood-veined leaves fallen in their own due time. But now I spin
circles over stranger's graves with glitter in my hair sparkling

         down to black grass I rip a patch clean,  till my fingers bleed, I'm so hungry I pull from the earth 
a rib-- lick dirt and gnaw. 

Oh mirror, why have I not cracked and crunched you to silvery dust with my bare feet and buried all the obsidian reflectors-- for my outwards have come to mean

         more than the black horse drinking the stream, more than the willow-swept night, more than shadows on the moon, more than the ash of my beloved.

A mouth full of nest to heal me, I want the built-up wildness of fledgling out-grown its nest, want found songs between my lover's long legs: to speak there in tongues. Most days I accept I have no beauty to sing-- no song, just this great canyon of need.   

Friday, April 24, 2015

Audio Recording of Thought Stream

Thought stream

My dog has something caught in her teeth     she is smacking her lips she is
looking at me like she wants to speak something    perhaps it is help me
get this thing out of my teeth, please    though it was delicious    now she is licking
my computer    her mouth must be very strong    it is how she loves the world
she licks and smells it     personally, my olfactory sense is quite 
acute     when my partner gets home, I smell her    I am spending too much time 
with dogs     (is that even possible)      we lay in the light stain    all day   
a hammocked existence     dreamy warm like that place Ive imagined 
in therapy where the angel holds me      but today I am not thinking about that 
today I am thinking about time      how slow
it used to be      how it didnt concern me      doubleknotting my shoelace
on the playground      but how time now concerns me      I am 33      I am divisible
by 11 which means I've had 3 cycles of magic      that is a lot      time drips 
from the faucet       I hear it and ponder      whether I want a child      drip/drop perhaps
they aren't so different than dogs      they give and take but once it's inside you
it has to come out and that's not even the hardest part      you forget the pain 
they say but not till after it tears through you      I understand how much I would love it 
I have a craving      I want an old soul of a child     one with starshine in their eyes 
and dimples     but I shouldn't be so particular     10 fingers/10 toes       a face 
that'd be nice    I expect the child would change my body forever      it could go 
either way      i'd love my body more or I'd love it less      but the bleeding
each month I want something to show for the dues I've paid      I have worked
hard to heal/I am wise and time's faucet is dripping faster
and faster      I am like a dog      so little time/so much love to give