I’ve learned to overvalue flesh. I’ve planted my conscious thoughts on how thick your lips will feel gracing mine, or how strongly I can caress your back to show you I have some aptitude for strength. It’s dangerous, and I am well aware. But I keep sitting on the porch steps wondering how you step into the shower; do you still bat your eyes and look behind you seductively? I can’t pass through a day of work without thinking of my ironic it is that my clothed body is too revealing, and my nakedness, a truth in your embrace.

My wife, the inevitable funeral director


She will work on the dead;
doll up the flesh,
cater a meal,
bring families to union,
give counsel in consoling.

She will love her husband
and make grace in a home
for the living, cherishing her union,
consoling her boo-boo ridden children.

She will pass the sheet overhead
for loved ones and husband,
hopefully never touching
her children’s flesh on steel plank.

She understands the process,
proceeds with caution,
steadily applying makeup,
steadily progressing her wellness
in family,
with her children and her energetic
soul mate — the one that will inevitably
bother her for one more lifetime.

A blender of this world and the next;
Blood to formaldehyde;
Mother to makeup artist;
Wife to unwitherer.

On the Side of the Road


Stuck to the feathers,
lacquered pale,
bone covering jacket,
red leather smeared
seat cushions.
Winged cross-reference,
hunting down the pavement,
alignment to the mirror,
why did they cross?

A tumble over,
a flop generated
to stun the fish
like great tales at sea,
a whale in defense.

Coral make by land
coiled in the grill,
facing the sun,
broken teeth.

Night mealer,
stalking the walkway,
struck by daylight,
meal for darkness,
meal for family.


I forgot today,
as if it had been blown away.
I forgot this morn,
half pass of the sun,
and the eve when it is gone.
I forgot the sound of waking bell,
and the shot of sleeping smells.
I forgot the grueling working hours,
and the ones tilling poppy flowers.
I forgot my nightly prayer,
and will never wake to figures aired.