Patchwork Poems -- recycled lines from old poetry of mine

My head is filled up with paper cranes
& I’m trying this new thing out
where I look through people’s
bullshit to find the love inside them.
My problem was that it
was always too easy
to see yours.
(Your problem was that
it was always too hard.)
Maybe this is where it
starts, or maybe
where it ends –
your echo as he tried
his best, but it was all for naught –
We are black letters
punched onto paper, you&I, and
you are the last thing I remember.


----------------------------


I want to break your heart.
Say shut up & cover red mouths
red blood thumbs
Say baby, why don’t you pour
me another whiskey
(I want more boots &
I want people to call me a
dyke, does that answer your question?)

I want to make you shake.
We are supposed to sit
close and create things
like words. We are knitted like
knobbly white thread
woven into a sweater that I wear
for comfort.
I’ll go back to Italy and forget you.


--------------------------------


Tell me secrets that you wear
under your dress, and what is left
after you wasted your day
Even as we walk & we
leave carcasses trailing after us
spilling out of our pockets
and stranded on the sidewalk –
Empty snail shells
Empty drinking cups
Empty chairs.
Be terrified.
I want you to,
Get caught up, sucked
under. Take that risk.

For The Love Of You

I have been saying your name
in my head
but I am too afraid
to part my lips and
move my tongue and
speak it aloud
because it burns my lips like whiskey
when I am finished

the hard kind
that warms the belly
and scorches the throat
and that’s what you are
to me –
the sword I swallow
to keep it a secret
to hide it
in the dark
because you look more
beautiful than ever
in the daylight
and that scares me

I wish that I could
bury these words
below layers of
flowers and moons, and
other things that would
do you a little
justice, but
I must be brave
and send this pile of letters
out into the world
to see where they fall
into line and spell
your name

and I have been saying
“I love you”
in my head
but I am too secure
in my own insecurities
to bring the tender flesh of
truth into the light
and risk it being
sunburned,
because your rays are sharp
and I love the cuts they give me
and you make me
feel
like I am a crab
outside of its shell

I am a fool
in your shadow
a coward
waiting to be freed,
tossed from my own safe shores
deep into the brine of you
and to breathe in
the salt that you sweat.
I rise and fall with you.
and I hope you know
that all of my poems
are love poems
for you.

Whisper and Break

whisper, my love
heat your breath inside
your lungs, and hiss
a sweet song down
my spine

break, my love
crack a snap of sinew
where your fingertips
have singed my skin
and make me whole

what are you, my love
but a whisper and break
the wind in my ears, and
a thin battered bone
in my breast

Here Is What I Want You To Do

I would like for you to
come up to me
and say
“We missed seeing you
today. Are you all right?”
and then
I would like you to
look at me
like there is a knot in my eyes
that you are untangling
and if you stare
hard enough
something will come loose
in me
and after that
I would like you to
place your index finger
under my chin
and raise my face
to the light
and then
bring me into you
into your arms and
the warm place
between your neck
and collar bones
and I would like
you to keep me
there, even if I
try to lean away
(at first), until
all of the poison
has drained from me
and I am left
divinely
empty

Sleep

what I really want is
for the silent drip of sleep
to cover my eyes
in gray water
and let me drift away.
nothing more.
no shimmering redemption
no crisp daylight
no falling leaves, no
change in seasons.
I do not care for
green chutes slinking
up from the ground
any longer,
and when my eyes are
open, all I see is
a scratch on my chest
and weak ankles.
I do not want what
I once wanted.
I need no diamond
rings, no muse.
just a mask
of sleep
(and perhaps a
dream or two
of something better)

Could You Close The Curtain Please

sitting and not looking
at my friends, who are
dating. I can hear them
whisper urgently
to one another
(a fight of some sort)

I imagine them
staring one into another
as do
a moth
and flame

and then undressing
secretly
and making love right
next to me

altogether alone
save for the absent body
across the room.

For all I know, it
could have happened
(my hair, you see
is long
and functions as a curtain
between my eyes and company)

I would like
to think that
it did

I’ve filled my void
with useless things
like dragon eggs
and fairy wings,
an autumn star,
a broken heart,
a puff of cloud,
a work of art,
a handful of
gold leaves and chains;
and in the end,
not one remains.

Needles

so I waited
for my fingers to lace
themselves back together
and sew a single stitch
across my sullen face

to draw me back, thread
by thread to wherever
it was that you found me
sinking fast in sand, and
you pulled me up

with champagne bubbles
and twisted smoke rings
keeping time
with throbbing bass lines
that threaten to keep us

here forever
but no, I wouldn’t mind
and so I’m waiting
for that stretch of string
to lead me home

to break my bones
and pick the pieces out
so they can heal up better
this time
but no, you wouldn’t know

I know you’re scared of me
and I don’t blame you
I’ve stained your blouse blue
and red with blood
both in my veins and out

but still you sit, with
me and all our secrets
a little family
with hearth and home
a wreck

I miss myself
when I am gone
so find that subtle thread
and pull it from my heart
back to your bed

I Think

I think I’d just like to
stew here
in my own precious
misery
and I will never understand how
self-loathing
and
self-pity
fit hand-in-hand so well

I think I have
lost weight today
my fingers are skinny-looking
and they cannot stop
shaking
(but hey
at least
I look better
this way)

I think it is time
to admit that I
have failed
(again)
smelling of
piss and vomit
scratching the mirror
(again)

I think I will
just wait
for someone
to find me
here