I could make anything out of you. I have called you Scarecrow, And Jesus and sometimes Motherfucker. But tonight I call you to my side That you be not afraid Of my touch Though to you it feels Like standing within reach Of an Autumn bonfire Where leaves disintegrate Like stars skyward.
And rock stars who die young Are born again, Their tombs lay empty Of all except worms. The skin, newly inked reads; “Worship me or die.” I have been here before, Close to the scent of you, Your voice like a hummingbird Against my chest With stories of dead country stars And Las Vegas hotel views. You wrap yourself around me, Edging inward like a soldier Looking for a place To find shelter. Yes, I have been here before In this room built from desire Where we remember our nights In the Old World When your hands bled At the [...]
I, the ragged muse Dragged like a doll From room to room. Do I make you write ethereal music, Passages from beyond this world? I was once a girl who worshipped, And became a woman Who wanted to be worshipped. I stained my mouth red, My eyes charcoal, like Cleo. I rubbed myrrh and sandalwood Into my limbs, As any muse would do To intoxicate, to cloud reason, To appear like a dream. . The curls in my hair reached further each day, Until at last you were bound By a soft design That was killing you.
Parrish blue Where all present Are the young angels of desire. Venus bright silver On the horizon, and the stars full of wishes and hazards, and dead end love. They are more brilliant than hope When they come asking For forgiveness. Land of make-believe Have mercy on me.
I am not as pale and smooth As the moon, Still, kneel down And find your light in me. I have taken You into my heart Like a bullet. You sink further each day, A foreign thing. How will you exist In the realm of blood and muscle, How will you maneuver Past the deadly.
This is the way it goes:. Your friends turn against you, Your daughter is a whore. Jesus stops listening. Your bones ache as if you’ve just been taken down, And your money is gone. Sleep is one of those things you remember, Like childhood, But can’t quite seem to re-live. Dinner is M&M’s, or anything with sugar. All birds and animals are predators. A good phone call is a charming young man at your door. The world is half right when you have, Hell when you do not Your past is a dream And you doubt That you [...]
Orange and black, The Halloween Flight of a monarch to the expectant Mexican village. You’ve become ritual, Falling into place, a puzzle To memorialize the dead. In the face of so much death You are an impossibility Made possible You are faith & mystery Made manifest.
This place I have made-crowded With leaves and fairy tales, And long blonde braids That capture hummingbirds. Raspberry and peach, A divination in your mouth To stop the world from coming. You don’t belong here. You crave the tide, the after-life of Long dead things. I cannot bring you into this place- Too sweet, too green, And you, being ABLE to make sense of common things.