august 2016




...why, once more, does this inky scalpel

scratch its morbid graffiti


its chain of rusting, unforgiving lies

across my neck


is it not enough that I begin

to haemorrhage syllables and fats


to bleed acronyms

and watch conversations swell from the wound


why indeed does this delicate hate

always ooze out across the room


until existence is totally dismembered

by graffiti, by the unforgiving pages


that quietly soak the blood

from the corners of my eyes


why, because each word

must lash out at the void


each incision must strip the unknown

for every idea, every scratch


is truly an act of desperate surgery

an unanswerable love


that rises from the wound across my neck

the unforgiving passion to bleed...






...there is, it seems, an epic bitterness

that constantly weeps from my breasts


its dark milk runs down my thighs

staining the sheets


covering my clothes with its black appetite

is it my own frenzy


my own powerless vanity

that, at any cost, must


butt aside this unsightly blindness

which stands rooted to my face


or is this pool of black milk at my feet

not a sign of the world’s slow evil


of some immense, lonely peace

as silent as the sun is silent


the dark tide covering the rocks

an ocean of blind milk


bitter to touch, bitter to see

my breast’s black hunger


a love unlike any other...





...we are this earth’s destructive sacrifice

its bewildering, dull hunger


we are its desperation, its obsession

to hold light in our teeth


we are the cunning intercourse with mountains

the smiles that openly crave sex


we are the slovenly metaphysics

the children left dying in the rubble


we are the augmented love

the language that never speaks


the verses that were never written

and the minds that were never born


we are this earth’s torn veil

its pious, anodyne hatred


we are the burning in our eyes

the cunning sun, the graven smiles


the blood that rises onto the page

as we try to sweeten the word hypocrisy


we are the last universe left

the glowing fossil that tore the world apart


we are humanity

call us anytime...






...long ago the talons of the unknown

sank deep into my back


where they have remained

chaste and immoveable


my psyche, a gorgeous bird of prey

an infectious theory


that watches the veins in my hand

as they rise and fall


for it has been my intimacy

with this creature’s promiscuous eyes


that forced me to eat trees

to dance with pigs


listen to the wilderness

and yet still be none the wiser


a disturbed inmate of the unknown

I am therefore clearly in danger


of screaming pain out beyond the earth

beyond the claws


beyond my sometime-hazardous psyche

its relentless intimacy


crawling from the bird’s throat

my ignorance like vomit


out beyond the earth

the agony of the wilderness


the agony that spins the veins in my hand

with no choice but to rise and fall...