Monthly Archives: September 2013

This Time, the Sea

it’s strange
this ache i feel
this tugging of ghost strings
pulling me back into
the technicolor cinemascope
the dream

the dream
that time has passed
been left behind
swallowed up &
can never be lived in again

a house burned down to ash & smoke

this ache…

has it always been with me?
have i always been entangled
in these ghost strings?
this web of sand & mirrors?
this kaleidoscopic movie
dancing through my life
from birth to death &
back again?

this ache
this dream
this time when i am 8, 17, 22, 43, 75, 96…

this oceanic dreamtime
washes through me & around me
red & gold &
green & silver &

it’s strange…

Geek Love

i’m gonna wear my heart on my sleeve
& show you my character sheet
i’ll let you see my ability scores
my modifiers, traits, & skills
you’ll know my armor class
& when i fail my saving throws
i’ll show you my defenses
& let you in my circle of protection

i’m gonna wear my heart on my sleeve
& tell you my origin story
i’ll let you know my weaknesses
& tell you all my strengths
with great power comes great responsibility
so don’t let me down, don’t let me fall
you’ll know my true identity
as you stand here by my side

i’m gonna wear my heart on my sleeve
it’s gotten me hurt before
but i have hope & i have faith
in you

A Fragment

I walked out of the bungalow and thought about everything I’d tried to do in my life but failed. Why did I dwell so much on my failures and not my successes? I’d traveled across five continents, taught linguistics and cartography to poor children in underdeveloped regions, helped build aqueducts and courthouses and temples, written liner notes for developing rock bands. But all I could focus on were my failures. Why had I never learned to speak any of the dialects of the Serpentine Jungle? Why had I never written any plays about the lost gods of the southern desert? Why had I never gone back to the Castle of the Jaguar to retrieve my scarlet cloak? I’d paid a fortune for that cloak, and it was very comfortable!

I looked at the tattoo of the cobra on my forearm. I could barely remember getting that tattoo, but it seemed to signify so much: my misspent youth, my time in the Archivist’s Academy, my years wandering through the Labyrinth of the Alabaster Queen. I wondered about my old friend and roommate, Xul the Painter. Had he ever reunited with his lost love, Caroline? Had he unlocked the mystical secrets of the jade box given to him by the old Trotskyite that lived downstairs from us? And what about his brother, Jorge? Was he still toiling away as a minor functionary in the Department of Conflagrations?

I wanted to go back, to return to my home, to make amends and correct my past mistakes. But the paths back were all closed to me. I could never return to what was. My only road lay ahead of me.

I sat on the front steps of my bungalow, my face in my hands, and I sighed heavily.

Kissing the Turtle

in the crush
of frozen waterfalls
a crash of
waves a wash of sighs drowning in the

honey ocean bubbling in the
sugar sea
in the forest
of the sphinx an island breeze in

the trees of moonlight singing with the crying
doves siren bells &

crystal shells
dancing in the nest of
swans fingering frost

& spangled ice tracing
lace with dolphin grace
kissing jewels in pools of stars
whistling in the cave of ghosts cloaked in
lilypetal masks painting flowers
wreathed in showers

of bright gardens
lost in fountains of
the night

On Beyond Mars

i look my best in the brier patch
i look my best dressed in rhyme & verse
the more time you spend on figuring things out
the more you make things worse
it’s a blessing & a curse

i jump
& yell & gesticulate wildly
my voice is in my hands
don’t give me
a microphone or a megaphone
because i might bite them off
with a laugh or a cough
my teeth like diamonds

it’s easy for me to turn around
burn this all to the ground
shout at you
until i’ve worn you down
but it’s not what i want
i don’t want to be a dick
i don’t want to be a cunt
it’s no kind of fun

i’m going on beyond mars
beyond jupiter
& out past eris
being stellar & nebulous
being all kinds of lost
& tempest tossed
with a laugh & a cough