Houdini (06/07/07)

You to me are effacing,
slow against the wind.
Like the sunless sand in the ocean,
you are the stark contrast of Picasso,
reborn to create Monet.
The summer wind has faded,
along with it your hand
or the whispered words of Neruda
from the desperate poets' land.
On the empty nights you echo,
like records long ago--
faded struggling artists,
now buried deep below.
You to me are effacing,
slow against the wind.
like stiletto walks- on staccato,
and the wilting deep within.

I Waited and You Didn't Show (02/17/06)

I waited

In the strictest sense,

In my best attire,

With borrowed hours.

To pass time,

I counted stars,

And paused at blur-three hundred.

The moon was familiar,

The shrapnel that lined the sky an ominous calling

I dreamt.

Until everyone was a glassy reflection in a bent silvery sliver spoon.

All and sundry passed,

In a long, drunken samba

With limbs and limbs and pairs of feet

I wait, and I count.

Pliant (06/10/07)

You to me, dear, stir
something i thought i've neglected--
in dire need of replacing
(i have hired a surgeon for this purpose)

his hands were unsteady,
his scalpel fingers cold.
i heard the voice of george harrison from beyond,
singing about the sun. but the anesthesia wore off

quicker than ticking i was displaced,
into something worse than that note between
the third and fourth fret.
the ringing sounds of effects multiplied like children

from amplifiers.(the droning bass reminding me of you.)
i am a patient, up for your observation.
(do you like what you see?)
we shall fix it to cater to your needs.

they say, i have fine teeth.
(do you want me to bite, do you?)
we shall file it down into violent streaks.
there is no solution, too small for me.