It's February

Two cardboard pumpkin

cut outs

from the pillar by the piano
refuse to surrender

to Cupid’s appointment

"Post Advertisement Here"

the lonesome yellow thumb tack

inserts

his

tongue

on the plane of cork

where spitting the opinion of another

is his purpose

A Note For Kim

I was

thirsty

at 8 pm

while on the job

dreamt of

water

falls
and

watering

holes

desperately

opened your desk

drawer and

discovered

            Poland’s Spring

the vending machine

now holds

your pocket change

and my Debt

A Cremated Beacon

The house emits darkness
Replacing fire once kindled
An illuminating darkness
Black obliterating yellow:
             warmth, life, truth
Erased by a momentous lie
That flicked
        like a finger, her
Vicious tongue
To hit the switch, and dwell in
Permanent Darkness.

Mumbo Jumbo

Hollow rocks and crowded pages

Lowered light, sweating faces

Yelping children, canned green beans

Triple scoops and dog droppings

Umbrella soldier, whispering lark

Friendly puppets and willow tree bark

Siamese desktops, jungle hose

Kindergarten traffic, Pinocchio nose

Queasy lilies and toaster dings

Muffled frost bite and bellybutton rings

Only You

I am nothing. I am humble before you God. I am nothing. I have no talent beside what you have bestowed so graciously upon me. I have no inspiration apart from the touch of heaven you place on my lips. Even writing now I feel the foot of greed stepping slowly on to this page. I refuse to let it dwell here. I am a mere vessel; my purpose is to glorify my source and sustainer. What do I gain in a ghastly attempt to glorify myself? The lifting up of a garbage pile, the showy display of filth and wreak of stench for all to admire? Why would I want for my wretched nature to fly on a banner above me, proclaiming gross lies and constant failing? Banish my identity from the banner that flies over my head and reigns over my heart. I am…

No more I. Only You.

You hold my focus, my begging knees plead for Your holiness to fill my gaze evermore. Obliterate me, trample this pattern of daily mortal striving.

EXIST, REIGN, CONSUME, SWELL my heart with the cleansing blood of Your Son; beat your heart in my cavity for which it was crafted.

Triumph of Truth

Crow and Dove approach for battle

Perching pensive over plot

Thick, woody plot upholding

Fragile stick-like talons

Crow, black wit, betrayal

Manipulates his stance

Spreads wide and flaps his oily wings

Hovering over common ground

Steadfast Dove, plain as day

Remains fixed, her eyes in front

Softly whistling her unswayed theme

Troubling, piercing, crystal

Crow ascends in his show

Climbing the branch shrinks below

Dove whistles long and low

Deaf blind and mute, rise higher crow

Flaunt wide your unkempt wings

Above the rooted foe

Fly, embrace your invisible fate

White whistle, triumphant, still heard by all

My Black Suit

Plain, black and listless

Skin tight, standing by

My black suit hangs

Awaiting our next invitation

Perched in the closet

Leathered, zipped, dormant

Without my pulsing flesh

It sleeps

While opportunity draws near

I groom its shiny coat

Close the closet door, ignore it

Worship the long concealed charm

Abrupt arrival of night

He lurches off his pedestal

Possesses black my raw scrubbed skin

Without invitation my sin becomes me

The Idol

She sucks in her breath

Ribs like teeth with skinny venom

Bite the invisible flesh below

An indigestible meal

Taking years to shove down

Regret

            Shame

                        Torture

Devour vigor’s skeleton

A pallid worm left writhing

Kissing Natalia Vodianova’s feet

The mirrors vomited reflection

A glorious filthy idol cast in blood and bones