Monthly Archives: March 2013

Taste of the Ocean

And outside, the suns explode–
white hot nails, assault fire–
perforate the walls, flesh,
bones and blood
the taste of the ocean within me.

Paralyzed, my penitence,
to watch you leave
our home,
watch the floods distend,
unravel the rusted empty where
we never were.

I climb the walls,
a pocket of air, pressed
beneath the roof, this house
stronger than our home.
I tried and
I tried, alone.

Don’t worry, I’ll be
breathing liquid pollution,
vacant-eyed memories drift by,

And outside, the suns explode,
perforate the walls, flesh,
draining, a gush,
a rush to the bottom,
rich silt feeds my landscape,
by white hot nails.

Hair like muddy seaweed,
the taste of the ocean within me,
I lie, spent and still,
atop a new foundation–


Submitted for Open Link Night #87 at


Awake Alone

A low, distant whine
crescendo and crash, can’t sleep–
night’s howling windstorm.

The blue rushing wind
far better than silence, the
deafening silence.

I know I won’t sleep,
with the air stirred up so, the
moon near her fullest.

No clean, quick-healing
cuts, this mess I’ve made, my life
mangled to a pulp.

I open the door,
invite both inside where I lie,
Moon caressing my feet,
Wind playing its lullaby.

She said, do not be
afraid to go deeper. You’re
not bloody enough–

Forehead to the earth,
arms embraced wide, I admit:
I can’t do this alone.

The rage passes, trees settle,
wind chimes sing
a last dissonant chord and
I hope this means sleep,
the escape, for me.

Submitted for Open Link Night #86 at