I am an ocean full of dark things that never see light My body covers the earth and when the sun bears his touch I remember how vast I really am I could spend hours rolling my head side to side trying to see all of myself And that’s when you see me and remember…
I love the way she cries Only does it when she needs to She beats the sunrise to her totem overlooking the meadow I try and catch her through binoculars, but what could be better than my naked eye Then it occurs to me in this moment why I love her so much She is…
Nature’s ceaseless muscle Pulls us From these small hours These dying bodies Because the Truth is Fires that start in space never stop spreading Sunlight is touchable on a horse’s hip A soft hand always heavies the eye And we breathe through our hearts Knowing the notes of a song we’ve never heard before
If I live to be a hundred, I will be just as beautiful as I am now. My sun heart will still rise before I do. My moon mind will still gawk about the midnight of my bed quarters. My star-fire blood will still warm the bow of infinity that is my flesh. And my…
God shows himself in mysterious ways Sometimes he’s Louis Armstrong on the radio on your way home from work Sometimes he’s an owl-shaped tealight candle holder, small and gray That way when you turn off all the bedroom lights his face flickers in haunting shadow Actually he’s a million different solitary birds presenting to each…
I saw this man wearing a sign today on 42nd street and he reminded me of you how you would have Loved him and all the people who never looked up You’d say– Maybe the guy behind him is texting his wife can’t wait for Colorado Maybe the fella to the right is meeting an…
Leap from your structures There are animals down there clinging to rock canvas as old as God Leave the dishes The clothes on the floor The wine in the bottle Your nocturnal predator needs her beauty sleep too Open all the windows Do you see it now? I do There’s a sun ball on your…
Mary asked good questions. The kind only a woman thinks. Do I see you with my soul or with my spirit? He smiled. The deep kind that starts in the eye. Neither. It’s your mind, Miriam, the space between the two. She chewed on that awhile, holding the weight of her hair at the top…
Just a little Love tonight from the Oregon coast and my first Lover, William Wordsworth. As a little girl, I remember stealing from my mother’s book shelf, stacks of classic romantics. But William was the first theft. He and I conceived my passion for books. Real books. From the ornamented bindings, the textured ink, the…
It came in through the front door a dense, black body and paper wings crashing headlong into the window screen above where I lay Over and over he pounds on his prison dumb to my quiet eye What if I can save him, I think I’d be so beautiful A little god with red fingernails…
Sobriety Poet 