poetry

spiral staircase

Love in the Time of Vertigo

Without help now
I can maneuver myself

upright, then supine to correct
the wind spinning my brain

from myself. My face angled
and pillow propping my shoulders,

lake

Billow of Thistles

I have only ever left this planet once
in a billow of thistles
after snorting meth amphetamine
in an abandoned record store
in Hollywood, birds settling
into the window sills

flood

Flood

I want to live long enough to outlive my mother
so she never learns of the needles hidden throughout my apartment
the way she once hid money from herself
for times when she didn’t work enough
and I pray if she ever learns

leaves

The Higher Things

Why not act indulgent and reckless for once?

An oarsman floats on a weightless scull.
Salt in the low marshes. Sunbathers smoke something strong.

one flower

MAY

There is a broad forgotten flower
in the ruins of our days, rising
immaculate from the frozen earth,
its purple heart waiting for a woman’s
name: Rose, Iris, Veronica,
Daphne.