A short story about a Tejano family all alone in a very shady town.
I have always loved writing poetry, despite never being able to go anywhere WITH it. I like to gift wrap events of my personal life in poetry. It is a prickly process, too much tape and a sliding pair of scissors.
To wake up alone Beside your tired body As it rolls and it circles The spasms and the throbbing Your eyes are closed like diamond mines Reserved from nobody's knowing except mine To tickle every muscle asleep Without a squeak or rustle or creek Inclined, for it is impossible to know how the fish sleep … Continue reading Come Near The Island So I Can See You Please
In crunchy snow we met The time was dripping wet, all the happy And all the sad In the city iron clad Melted that night when we held fucked and for hours on hours we held hands I cannot forget We screwed into eachother like a bolt in an door Whoever was wooden really needed … Continue reading Honey Nut
I am crawling through a tunnel with a ceiling Thinner than skin Why don't you just burst through Says the zombie citizen He says the skin is ample Like a fat lady's ankle Fatty on the outside And swollen like ageing apples Peeled away, another day Like skin from skin We'll separate Skin grows anew … Continue reading The Tunnel
What would it be like To recognise the joys of womanhood Understand the destiny imposed By the treasured male Y chromosome You see, sex is not your brain Your brain is a brain in itself An organ that operates over the seconds, minutes and hours And summons preordained and ancient powers These powers are: The … Continue reading International Women’s Day
----------- Self medication And the ability to draw out the damnation That writhes through every weak joint In the brain that rattled every bad thought Through the angry drain It shakes and shakes until the lumps become small Until they're unnoticeable And fly though blood like hormones When a whore moans is she telling the … Continue reading Over Dramatic
The start of a poem The destination of the wild The origin of a myth I’m afraid I’m just a child We actually came to be Hot summer in the winter Weighing down thin petals Giant stems bending like backs and splinter Silver glances Cutting through like radiation Two lights dancing Translucent smile Golden grip … Continue reading Little Fly