gorgon

that one slithers over her sisters,
the greenest streak in the verdant field.
the emerald wave in the jade sea of your head.
the celebrity snake half-buried in your scalp,
slithering in place, hissing frustrations.

if i wasn’t stone i would regret not admiring
this yesterday when i was too enamored
trying to take off your head.
trying to find your face in Athena’s mirror.
if yesterday i came without scraps
from the armory of Olympus, would you have let me
come close enough to run my fingers
through the tangle of your serpents?

ah, but i am mere stone strewn
among other statues in your fold.
i collect visions as best as stone eyes allow,
before the ages wrap me in moss, almost lovingly,
and then all there is to do is listen
to that ubiquitous winged horse, to Chrysaor,
tangle as twins in your womb.



2014.05.27

en route

we were
rolling and shooting up the ranges
on roads snaking and twisting and
raking through dirt and stone and
foliage, flat concrete fingers
groping motherland like a lecher.

you were
on the backseat and the passenger
seat, i am Captain, i am stuck
gripping the wheel. you told me
there were a few blue oceans on
the left and 99 shades of green on
the right. i believe you, but i
can’t take my eyes off the highway.

you said
there were a few green skies beneath
the road. there were 99 shades of
blue oceans overhead and wanting to
rain on our ride. there were dragons
with glass scales driving Harleys on
the water by the ravines, there were
floating continents at war in the mid-
morning sky. i believe you, but i
can’t take my eyes off the highway.

we were
rolling down the windows, killing off
the AC, inhaling the mountain air
and all its stories. silencing the
radio, subscribing to the cacophony
of trees and tree dwellers. halfway
to the haven in the sky, a truck
ahead makes a U-turn on the highway,
a moment to wait. to look around, to
drink in the view. stop and smell
the alors. wave at glass dragons.



2014.05.26

harvest

her head was a lit lantern.
i tried,
to keep the moths off her face.

the light: flickering orange spill on
her yukata, flaring in and out of
mortal planes.

and the night: fluttering tempest of wings,
the darkness, the devourer.

the flicker, the flutter,
the flutter, the flicker -
become one and,
my lady with the lit lantern head,
she






i swear you will remain.

i harvested shreds of your kimono to make
Lilliputian kites anchored on and
soaring over your grave.

(this,
is your spirit.)

i kept memories of your radiance in
the heart of an elder sun.

(this,
is your core.)

and, i freed bait from your eyes
and spent the summer fishing
submarines out of that pond you
pissed into existence.

(and this,
is your love.)



2014.may.07