On a night of the deepest stillness,
a medicine cabinet had shown
the labyrinthian melancholy of stars.
...
Is the love of one
enough for the love
of another? I am not certain-
...
The night calls in all of its dark daughters.
Another one of my lines
in another's poem, published.
And I alone am forgotten.
...
What is mine, no longer,
nor yours truly,
nor one of us of each other.
...
You know...
french words
became as common
as trailer park homes
...
Born beautiful as all babies
yet we argued she was
most beautiful. Eavan Brigid,
baby beautiful: A melodious ring,
...
As a lullaby, it circumvents
the madman and his machinations…
A petty carousel full of little tin soldiers,
...
I’ve got a holy chalice that needs some bowing down to;
needs a little worshipping, a body temple of time slipping.
A heavy musician in Kansas city, floating yet drowned
in her own music, people laugh at me when I count calories.
...
Tired of yelling
the same old Christian songs
through an open window.
My arms outstretched
...