National Poetry Month Day 15 - Dancing

For my head returned on a silver platter
I'll do the Dance of the Seven Veils with Post-It notes
In the alley of shadow of the castaway moongazing drunks
You can write whatever you want
You might have sung my life while the angels were asleep
But what they were guarding was my laundry
From my Candy Mountain tour guide phase
And you can't wash that away
And they still want me to pay
And they still want me to pay

National Poetry Month Day 14 - Desiccated Summer

What was vision like

Before guesses desiccated summer

Stolen from the rain

Sky waves of dust for our eyes

And damp prayers became stain

Stains became art

So we breathe and breathe and breathe until

We speak in squeaks, all else sounds shrill

Outgrowing what we lived in

The stains became our new skin

With the only teeth we had and a plastic bag

Crunched the moon for forgiveness later

Like a dry mouth holding a communion wafer

NPM Day 13 - Harder

Hips crushed hard candy

Harder Judy

Gout slinger of faults

Full-body slap against a wall

O' white bumpy plastic 

'tis of thee

Sweet cream and entropy

Strike your neighbor thine tambourine

Splatter so much you drown yourself

So hard you become a stranger

If life is a conveyor belt

Who knows which side we're on

Except the ketchup and oral sex

It's the sugary button walking pace

Of the pavement age timing rise

That slips

Like sins through years

Into cracks around my eyes

And candy in my ears

NPM Day 12 - Loose Time

I just picked a speck
Of dried quinoa
From a rare unrounded cave
Of my Macbook
At a coffee shop
That strains the block
For a single sepia drop
Of the familiar drink
Of history
If me at twenty-two
Spotted me at thirty-three
Well, he wouldn't be up before noon
But he'd be all sly grins
Sweating cigarettes & gin
Thinking "I'll never be him"
In his notebook ruffled with crust
Like a dead pigeon's ass
With poems of death and lust
And his notes from class
Devoid of context or use
And like his meter, loose
But not necessarily free
Too drunk to know what to be
Too unfocused to know what to do
"Fuck me at thirty three"
Fuck you, twenty-two

NPM Day 11 - Patio Waitresses

Faces unsure of their sternness

Tattoos dragging breasts

Breasts dragging eyes

Everything pouring, leaving lines

Of caged firecracker lust

Shellshocked clippings in a vase,

Of collars and caps
Their gripping waves

Against whimpering thunder

Of distant caves
Form canyons of digital wonder

In a sky mirror maze
Fruit served with a knife

Coats the tongue, but not the strife,

In sugar bumps, inducing haze

NPM Day 10 - Bougainvillea

A bougainvillea with means
Vine, bush, tree, awareness
Worships the same gods in reverse
Secret subterranean palate parties
High on rare earth metals
Group sex
Bees
Microchips with memories
A mushroom cloud of fuchsia
Protects a vibrating trellis of thought

NPM Day 9 - Office Pizza Fly

Mrt mrnt
Mrrrrrnt
It's not enough
Mrrrrnnt
Just admit it
MRRRRrrrrrr
Mrrnnnn n nn nn n
Distracted and divided
Distracted and divided
Distracted and divided by hunger
Mrnt

Simple algebra
Mrrrrrrr
Gourmet pizza
Mr
More demand
Mr
Same money
Bad sex bad pizza
Lots of it
Good pizza couch sex
None for your roommates
Let them get their own
Let me touch your eye
MRRRRrrrrrr

rrrrrrRRRRNT
Look around the room
Alertness and spite
Greed
Hunger most of all
Mrrrrrnt
Like a funeral

Just leave the box
With the cold half slice
Open when you leave
I got your back
MRRRrrrrrr