when it’s light out, and there’s life in your legs again —- if there’s not yet, hack at ’em, let what heat’s left in your hands spark husks in your blood. have it remember. It hasn’t always been so hard for you, doesn’t have to be—- once dawn meets dust meets land in time with […]
ENB 2016
Phantoms
I. moon rays fit the crumbling street, cut in jaggered dreams: the fixer’s jig begins at midnight, when he runs sexed and screaming through the graveyard. and here, a bowl, a tongue; my landlord drinks mindlessly, spits on […]
Erasure
(i) Kneel Sharp and edgeless, this submission. This sky, the shape of it hollow and wanting, Panting, as if all the light was simply a game, It had been night underneath, dark underneath, Poisoned, pounding underneath the skin all along. The pulse, the beat, the bone blades of the rain, The needle […]
who is giselle?
flailing november keels maple trees into fusilli shells. what do they let in? coughs of leaves on the bathroom sill. the drone of dragging wind skin to skin with the shower curtain, clawing at the floral pattern. it lies and lies and it wilts. giselle undresses before the floral pattern. skin oxford blue and shaky […]
Becoming Giselle: Poem in Two Acts
I. ‘Go crazy,’ he begs me, unfolds me – the arch, the heel, the tip of my foot; I’d crack if I could. plié, relevé One, two, three, four – I lost count of days, of years, ronde-des-jambs of how many times I had my heart muscle stretched too far. ‘Open up,’ he shouts, fouetté, […]
Who is Giselle?
She isn’t alive doesn’t know how to dance the Tarantella, though she knows its principle – how skin beats on earth and venom seeps out does that sound too easy? sometimes it lasts for days “i’m out of skin now” Giselle knows the force it takes to sit up what a callus means when you […]