Month: July 2019

linear a

lately i’ve been thinking of
lemon trees and pomegranate
blossoms and the ruins of at
least seven old cities buried, one
on top of the other, under an
olive grove owned by a lone
farmer living on the outskirts of the new
city. one day the farmer will sell the
olive grove to a wealthy businessman
who will unearth at least one of the old cities,
the most recent, the most impressive,
for us in the new city to visit with
tours guided and selfie sticks extended,
viewing the throne room of the head priestess,
the reconstructed murals of dark men
working in the sun, the ancient theater with
no stage. we will imagine living in the time of
the minoans. we will imagine king minos
showing off his palace and lands to
visiting rulers and diplomats. we
will imagine scribes scratching
glyphs into discs of fired clay in a
language buried by all the languages
that came after. and we will sit on the
steps of the ancient theater with no stage
beside a lone olive tree and we will
imagine the stories that must have
been told here of a minotaur and
a labyrinth and of ariadne placing a
ball of thread into the hands of
theseus to guide him home.

fallen

i saw an angel fall

to earth in a flash of light,

that lit the sky blood orange

like the setting sun and land

on the edge of the rocky beach.

her black wings were twisted and

crushed under her body.

her hair was the color of coals and

her face the color of ash. her thin lips

dripped hot wax. i went to her and

she told me, death is the devil’s favorite

myth. he promised it to me so i

followed him to hell and back.

but he lied and now he’s cursed me

to fight for life, to need to breathe

and to feed.

she shuddered and retched on the rocks

then she took my hand. i’ve never felt this

before, she said. i’m afraid. she looked

into my eyes and pressed her forehead against

mine. she whispered, her lips an inch

from my lips, is this how you feel all the time?

then she shuddered again and collapsed,

fetal and writhing in seaweed and broken

seashells. but she didn’t let go of my

hand. i felt her fingers clench tighter.

her wings convulsed. her skin began to change

from grey to red. then her face and head

melted over her neck and dripped into her body,

the two becoming one. her hand, still gripping mine,

split into two tentacles, they twisted around my

wrist and then let go, leaving red raised skin

behind. her tentacles spasmed and her beak

opened and closed rapidly, gasping. her eyes

darted to the ocean and then back to the beach.

then she looked at me. so i took her in my arms and

walked into the water until the waves were

swelling up to my air-filled chest, which swelled

as well in return. i placed her into the ocean

and with my arms still under her, i could feel her breathe

long and deep and i felt her soft body strengthen

with hunger as she swam away from me.

untitled

i’m doing everything i can
but it was never enough before,
so why should it be enough now? i think
i want destruction as much as you.
i want to burn up in the atmosphere
every time i try to touch you.
i want die of thirst on my knees in the desert,
inches from an oasis. (and you, kissing
my dead cracked lips, with cool water,
still on your tongue.)