Friday, July 8, 2011


So why do I hold myself captive?
I am all things conflicting. I am Judge,
Judge Selfordained, and in my courts
you are Great Mystery. Or Great Destroyer.

I am humbled by the fact that you
won’t change if the whole world
calls you lies like mine; that I am
what you say I am.

I start and end
so many sentences with I.
Like two pillars standing in the wind,
hoping to hold. But
I am a stone held

tight in a wall of stones.
I want to know nothing

but the builder and foundation
of this house.

The planks of the Cross were probably thinner
than the man hanging from its arms. You know
I wonder what he looked like,
how he trimmed his fingernails
and things like that.

she was full of a strange sweet perfume I didn’t know whether to eat or to be her not sure like a landlocked nightmare looking for a place to cool down she was something like incandescent like a candleflame living off smooth white fat disappearing she was so beautiful ivory like a polished bone or clean sheets flawless like scrubbed-down and soaped-up with fat sweet throwaway animal fat stripping the dark spots so she glowed like white wool in her soft cotton dress I didn’t know whether to kill or become her not sure like a landlocked nightmare dizzy and the smell of no rain