Archive for December, 2012


December 21, 2012


for an Eel

December 9, 2012

He left her on the side of the road

Outside of salvation, the second time around

As a matter of fact, the times don’t count

Since all of the meaningful things happen so quickly.

in spite of everything, whether we have been dropped or picked up

Is hard to separate.

so far duality is indissoluble

Still she kissed another before

On a stomach full of apple slices

Chopped up by a statue

Guilty of having a heart.

This statue is one of considerable weight,

This holds the separate parts down.

And while the pressure grows he leans in and whispers:

“She deserves better, we all deserve better,”

And it is a song transposed

I comfort my insides with as we move along

Doing our own repairs, not without feedback

Since the statue holding us

Has monumentally rubbed off on each side

And we are all —

Fuzzily at first,

And eventually, when we realize what we are made of –

Perfectly receptive to each other.

(The Guilt gives way to Love)

And you act one part statue, one part shepard, one part witness to me growing.

As I see you don’t ask me to trust you

Or get down on the level

To show me there’s no consenting to get each other’s back

There are purely warm fires –

An example of duality comforting and ravaging –

With ears and ears, and feet to dance, fingers to fly by

And forget the time the friend stole the sweetheart

From you, from me, from himself!

where does trust hide when everyone steals

from each other, from unknowns

Short circuiting goodness graciousness

Great balls of fire!

there are more scandalous things than having a child

By someone you are learning to love.

Isn’t the right thing as plain as day?

How do I get the sun to shine in a lover’s world who claims to prefer the night?

I ask them to put their hands down


To do good

But all I get is nothing,

A Christmas song,

And a man who says he will only hug me if I do it his way.

Then he says he is not a man,

But I still should do it the way he wants,


I make a map to go my way

Disguised as his way

Because it is too fearsome to make a way that may make ugly babies.