Saturday, February 26, 2011

Monday, February 21, 2011

I am reading Travis Nicholas's "See me Improving".


When I was a kid my dad told me
the stars made the sounds of crickets.
The silver trills that had kept me up until
then every night weren't spilling form
the legs of little black insects but from brilliant
points of light in the sky.
He said this to me from outside my window
in the early morning or deep night in a sleep voice
I though was the Gulf of Mexico
fumbling into the shore, so I whispered back,
The ocean was a liar, and I knew it because the other day
my dad told me the stars weren't spider eggs but
distant silent suns so far away they may already have died
and only the light exists of them now
in the great invisible net cast out by our eyes.
Then something strange happened.
His giant bald head rose into the window frame followed
by his one green eye, one blue eye, then his red-
veined nose and finally his beard-fuzzed mouth
which sang out in a clear human voice
I have been afraid of ever since.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Dinner by the Death-Metal Hubby

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Happy Valentin's Day
I really needed a sweet.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

for k.m.

A single page of an unfinished
letter and a cup of
chamomile tea are on a desk.

My mother’s funeral is forty-six
days after she left our apartment.

“I never thought she would die this January,”
my sister said. She is nine
years old. My mother will miss her puberty.

I recollect my mother’s lost
breasts and her sleek long hair on the pillow.

“I want to live,” her voice didn’t
go through the pay phone. Only her
radio kept speaking;

One Egyptian girl was killed in her mother’s arms yesterday…

The blood was purple
and luminous like a galaxy in darkened
space. Broken stars
bleed on the concrete road. The spots

slowly absorb the whole
universe leaving behind the cold
scent of chamomile.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Blizzard 2011

And My New Boots...