Tuesday, April 21, 2009

The Lodge

Taken all the way down
The stars are bright stones on black sand
Every tear’s a darkening fuck you
Beneath a pig mounted on a wall
Whose lips speak of terror.
I see your face like a childhood dream
Twisted in ecstasy
Men now flock to you like vultures to a carcass
And I wonder, where do dreams go to die, and
Does it ever feel good to let them go.
A funeral wreath can be worn as a laurel,
So spit on all the poor sots down below
Count your blessings with your drinks
And be thankful for talkative friends;
Because everything’s the reproduction of some antique
Made with new materials.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

The Red Lion

Cast iron birds the color of old porcelain
Your phone an alarm, and should I worry?
There’s an old man hanging from the ceiling
His face frozen from ecstasy or taxidermy.
Your tits look great cause you’re smiling
But the bricks show through the plaster
And there are swords on every wall.

Though this is all for decorative purposes,
How many flags can you count from the bar?
Worn with esteem or carried as anecdotes
Pulled from the wallet to stimulate talk
Or drape over proof of stimulation,
They catch all the wasted seeds, who are fine
Who are fine and swimming.

Friday, April 17, 2009


The sea represents eternity
Empty shelves are blasted memories
Poetry is a hoax
And sex is love’s pantomime

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Marfa IV

All that is symbolizes
As the ember contains the flame
A thing done has no end.

When together for the first time
Unlike those times before
We walk through a garden
Long intoxicated by scents
That whisper like prophecies
Heard in strange tongues,
Unknown but relative syllabics
Experienced as fire and ice

Behind an open window
We fear no voyeurs
For the moon has put her stars
To bed for us
We are blind
With only our hands
To know each other
As a flattened palm
Knows the shape of the wind.

I know and feel your warmth
All at once envelop me
Your kiss is a torch in the night
I come home to you and see

your mouth becomes the day
the moment I feel my future in your skin
everything stops
the books
clutter of an amassed life
the drizzle outside, and
the turning night
all drop away
except your eyes
except your shining eyes
where the stars have gone to rest

and you know this
because i can hear your thoughts
as an unborn child hears music

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Marfa III

My soul is in the streets
Of Marfa
The soft gray canopy
Encircling mountains
Are my body
And you and I
Together in the street
Is my soul

Here nothing happens
Life rendered eternal
Through force of habit
Each day follows the previous
As human generations
Or leaves fall from trees
Each unique in its movement
But identical from a distance

We are surrounded by distance
Yet have none between us
We are a moment in time
Yet what we share is eternal

I could walk the streets of Marfa
With you till I die
Though in this deathless expanse
Where life takes root
as austere little houses
a bookstore and market
bars for drinking music played
for us to sing or just
tap our feet and ponder
our hands
That remain together
As we walk home through
Quiet streets

This is life conquering death
And though Marfa persists
Scarcely a moment
In the span of its desert
A person can live an entire life
In that moment
As I live forever
In my moments with you

Monday, April 13, 2009

Marfa II

I came out of darkness and into a garden
where all light of day had taken refuge
in the smiles of shared company.

One stepped forth who caused me to wonder
whether all angels fall from pride or if some
are given by God to earth as gifts.

I wished that she not spare me her gaze
though from those gems sprung shafts
that pierced my heart dead to my feet.

As a candle shines in a hall of mirrors
reflected and augmented each to each
until the sum of all parts surpasses day
so did that company I was welcomed into
make a mockery of the night.

Our laughter in the dark pushed the limits
of solitude far into the horizon.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Marfa I

Leaning into the evening
I cast myself over asphalt
Stretched flat into the horizon.
The setting sun douses the clouds
To cast the sky in amber.
With the glow of a log turned ember
The day remembers its glory
As it prepares for death.
Mountains surround like pallbearers
Dignified, dressed in sedate shades
Sentinels of darkness that support
And blazon their dying lord,
Who, in his final flourish,
Anoints their brows.

In his absence
The mountains preside over evening
While the moon hides herself and weeps.
She fills the sky with her tears
To show us the beauty in grief,
And we trace our destinies
In her patterns of loss.

Darkness gallops over me.
I do not know where I go.
I lean into the road and
Expect only that it will end.
Lost on a black sea, a sailor
Will find his path home in the stars.
Westward I follow their decline
Seeking the end of the night.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Cha Cha

Do you smell that?
Yeah I thought it was
on my hands.
Usually it smells more
like bleach here.

Red lights on black vinyl
A jewel turns drunkenly
To catch every stare
Green reflected off cut facets
The symbols and signs of a horned god
Scratched into every mirror
Eyes that blink and change colors

Tuesday, April 7, 2009


Lost on trails away from home
Seeking not a path, but more distance
Between there and back again.
An adventure in assumed names
Taken in absence of mirrors or
Familiar faces
(boorish landmarks)

The sky seen through branches
Appears like the glimpse of a
Possible life
Peeking through the everyday.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Marfa (Appendix)

I wrote a song once.
I was sitting by a river and felt like singing.
It was gonna be a mournful tune
About time and the river’s passing;
But then I noticed that the sunlight
Dapples in the water
Shined like your hair.
So I wrote it happy instead.