Sometimes looking back

you get livid with yourself

for being angry/pathetic/vulnerable when you shouldn’t have been

the permanence of the past rapping at the chamber door to your soul

find solace in the fact that while the past is permanent

the past has passed


(Barely) Swimming

Truth spilling out like salt

Fire in my guts

But stiff legs keep me from flight

Holding on to the happy remnants of the past and trying to trash the rest

Punch a clock, pay the bills


Return to stress

Gnawing at thoughts, eating skin

Deep breathing, deep sea of relaxation

Oils, candles, scents, and bath creams

All amounts to the same thing


Know Me

I’ll drink your tears
dressed in leather, wrapped in latex

I’ll eat your fears
honey-glazed, garnished with blood and thyme

Build us shelter for the winter
burn the whole damn village down

Regarder-moi, je vais tout te devenir
et rien

 (Photo of a self-portrait by Robert Mapplethorpe; Courtesy of LACMA)


Grab your keys
don’t waste your youth tied
to one place
one idea –
slacks and button-downs
Monday through Thursday
casual Friday
take your lover
go see it all

(Photo featuring art by Barbara Kruger; courtesy of The Broad Museum)

Full Circle


this is your story


no matter how hard you tried

couldn’t get enough

all wrapped up in


plated in glory

a crash, a bang

how IT all began

and nearly ended


glass flying through the air

out onto road

now you’re here


all wrapped up in


Butterfly Garden

beside the ocean tucked away

a quiet, lonesome, blooming place

life and death wrapped up together

blossoms, one in all forever


Tea cooling next to love letters on the window sill,
dreams real yet surreal, almost tangible.
Sea and mountains in your lungs,
memories, monuments to beloved moments past.
Lessons sewn into your very marrow,
tangled up with the movements of your unconscious mind.
Breathing in every millisecond,
each precious opportunity for growth and death.
Growth and death, an endless cycle,
swirling in your teacup, like leaves
in the autumn breeze.