the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Day 56: Love and Porn in Culver City

Cold, but when pressed against the wall
Or pulled apart
It warms only to a sting.
The loneliest sing, a monologue
Of short gasps of sequential shock.
Traffic pushed the sun over the CNN tower,
Food was left to go in the pockets of my cheeks,
Zooming through a ghost town with a bloodless brother
Silence without sirens, and chasing the doctor.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Day 54: Fixity

We were on your front lawn
Where red dust stuck on blue paint
That flew through an open window,
Once broken by the babbles of a brook.
This brick porch is a creek bed,
Was once the cat dander and mosquitoes
That found their place on my skin,
Now buried deep in time.
And if I didn't have the first title,
I would've burned out the whole spectrum
Because this is everything:
The golden flame, the silver ring
The bronze medal that three could bring.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Day 53: Counting the Joker

Here is one more ephemeral blow,
Raps upon a door locked from the inside.
It peels the glue from my skin;
I hope it helps me see my true side
Picked at, hiding under a scab.
My bones are a garland of pearls
Fragile as such, they are draped in
Sinews and teenage promises.
Here is one more arrowless bow
That struck at your hearts
For what you did not know.