Tuesday, January 22, 2019


 in a fish tank without corners
 rub up against
 any available surface
 relief no release

 what this body could do
 carried by the water
 in an ocean without fish nets

Thursday, January 17, 2019

going to brighton center (dendrochronology)

 twice you held my hand
 just so reached
 around the front seat
 back rest of his car

 as i got out

 traced six years
 with the tip of your thumb
 our growth rings
 never aligned

Tuesday, December 18, 2018


 you feel the muscles
 that didn't tear
 and the bones
 that didn't break
 and the torn cuticles

 you lift yourself up
 it hurts it hurts
 and as the cuticles grow back
 so does the pain
 but you'll walk

 and you won't bleed
 to death and this desire
 to switch yourself off
 won't last this time
 and you'll be a tardigrade
 thawing surviving

Friday, December 7, 2018

going back to hamburg

 old scars from when
 they took portions of the
 unspeakable couldn't they have
 taken all of it and my appetite
 so i wouldn't keep on
 running into scalpels and walls

 new scars from when
 my collarbone and my eye
 and my thigh and my heart
 broke and i lay on the pavement
 in a foreign city and for once
 couldn't walk off the pain

 bad scars from when
 the body gets fixed up
 for a hostile world
 good scars from when
 the body crashes
 on a gentler world

Monday, November 26, 2018

going to barcelona

 the body was never the problem

 it's the words standing watch
 over worthless secrets
 the cathedral forever unfinished
 won't remember your silence

 it's the words jealously
 guarding the gates
 to the naked mountain
 and her spectacular views

 it's what you might find
 when you stop looking
 after the dragons who'll
 follow you around

 the body was never the problem

Sunday, November 18, 2018

going to cambridge

 as the outbound train
 crossed longfellow bridge
 i lost hold of my anger
 watched it drop
 into the charles
 carried off to the sea

 next morning a november frost
 illuminated the side streets
 in yellows and oranges
 a quiet grief settled in
 the empty lots where
 friendly buildings once stood

 but time does not count the times
 i've lost myself like this
 time provides for new times
 and small keepsakes

Sunday, October 28, 2018

going to oxford

 there was hardly any time
 to see the sights
 and anywhere we went
 i found a picture of you

 we filled up our space
 in a room of strangers
 drew new breaths
 from this old air

 we belong here
 nothing here belongs to us

 i belong here
 no one here belongs to me
 and for one day
 the future opened

Saturday, October 20, 2018

going to audubon circle

 i called you again
 got off the train at north station
 rode my bike straight to the bar

 and you came back
 slid onto the stool next to mine
 leaned into me and all around me

 i called you again
 and you took a bite from my arm
 left your mark on my neck

 and you came back
 armed with explanations
 wired for anger and shame

 i called you again
 didn't know how to say i'd wanted
 to come up that first night

 so we walked up beacon street
 all the way to coolidge corner
 air thick with may flowers

 when we ran out of hands to hold
 you hailed a cab
 i never called again