Archive for January, 2012

Dirty Notebooks

January 19, 2012

child-like curiosity
curses through my veins
the lines on my face are coming in way to slowly
fill the spaces between pages

a seed in my head
a plant that grows to my shoulders
down my arms
and out through my fingertips
in fits both quiet and loud

fill the space between the pages
i leave them there for some reason
and the reason unknown to me
often breaks my heart.

in fits both quiet and loud
i hope this doesn’t go to far one way
but if made inaudible
just a whisper of a ghost

ill let you go
ill let you swim in the shadows
ill let you dive into the walls
where the shadow dolphins play
you too will play
and swim
glide freely and openly

just a whisper of a ghost,
on the wall
on the pages
on my shoulders
through my veins



January 17, 2012

circles on fingers
imprints that show the monstrosity of my anxiety
or the weight of these thighs
creating texture
on my hands
that match the texture of my heart palpitations.

Ursus arctos californicus

January 12, 2012

Downstairs she walks
toward the back door
to see what is there
too dark, she sits on the table
craning her neck to look past the sliding doors
suddenly she sees
the bears
on the deck
how frightening they are
she makes no audible sounds
by these giant brown creatures
she has only seen in books


one leaves
another spots her
through the window
stands, paw on glass
mouth open
she squeaks
yet brave
unable to take her eyes off the sight
scooting backwards

crawling off the table onto chair
onto floor
pillows laid
a muffled thump
scooting backwards down the hall
away from bears

only one left
makes a sound, a growl
only heard by the girl

she is found
by morning
by parents
pillow under bottom
with bite marks on her wrists

Bodies in the Wall

January 12, 2012

It’s not as if the water was any louder than previously
or my hands any smaller
and though insignificant it seemed true, relevant at the time
as if the bodies hidden and rotting were trying to escape at last
as if they wanted to be seen
and i could see them through the wall.
their outline had been there when I moved in
but no one believed
late at night I could hear their cries
like sirens, or banshees
or some strange hybrid
the water continued to escape from above as i checked the pan
water, i suppose, but it smelled of old flesh with a hint of despair.
upon touching it i felt contaminated
fear enveloped me as i imagined the hole above me was about to
i could see it getting larger
with eyes closed.