Worming Between


A pressure in your outside-in
About your way around
top or bottom feels better
up against your crown.

Pulled in all directions
by the imagined inner Night
exteriors are deceiving
cramps struggle and bite

it feeds the contradictory
directions to your inside
lost once more and tense
wrapped around, it pries

bend the meaning within
to an exposition without
find a cold exterior
my geometry's in doubt



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Twisted below your body
I feel exonerated
Proffered up into the pain of completion
Fill me with fantasies
Of contentment
And the deceitful beauty of dawn

Remind me why we’re horribly perfect for each other
In your arcane drawl

Tell me why we’re perfect

Or at least why I’m not all wrong

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College Applications

A race to the top with no clear ending
the student stays ahead purely through bending
– almost – to that breaking point
his nerves and sanity tested or proved?
by the burning light inside, so cruel
(identity finds itself in failure)
but all he can do now is climb
is it worth the sweat to slide down?
a safety net for the profound?
or can it not be just as easily done
on flat land, one footstep by one
Who can say what that peak does,
friends, thoughts, or futures secured
perhaps those who never incline their plane
will never taste any air so pure
as that which one has died for.

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The Two Year Mark

bristles poke with fluidity
inside and out of the lid that he
put once over this insane equilibrium
of lustful dreams and sandy fun
ever restless, she adorns the windowsill
smooth legs in winter - all for nill
it's a crooked smile that lingers now
fixating on the sweaty brow
above the lady's tearful gasp

as the cold night beckons with a rasp
and two dance around each other like magnets
his bliss grows cracked and stagnant
rough hands caress pixelated skin
golden summer wanes thin
sedentary adventure
one is his, the other hers
together someone will find out
and they will both be locked away

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People preach
there are crossroads in life

times we must choose – and they lie

every breath is an action
every second that I do not die
but Where to go next
the blind driver is befuddled

should he go? or should I stay?
Home is always far away
maybe he’s my chance to change that

Yet all I’ve ever known is Tomorrow and There
am I wrong in who I am?

Ancestry.com won’t tell me where I’m from
it won’t help me pack my things

I don’t want a passport with empty pages
I want a history that sings
of escape and loss and wings

of love throughout the ages

of princesses

and Kings




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The Circle Maze


I want to know everything
there is to know

Why the wind blows
and rivers flow
and why the birds cry
and why I’m shy around stages and sigh

you want to know too?
so we can flip through the perilous pages
cutting our thumbs on letters
and burning our eyes

while the sun mysteriously smiles

Maybe it’s not a futile chase
if the ghost turns into a face

If one of us wins the lottery, will she explain it to us?
Will she share – if she can?
the reason why we exist as man?

will we hope for what tomorrow brings
if we can’t begin to understand

impossible – solve the equation for x
not by it
one part of  a hole – struggling
getting high enough for the view
to see what we forever thought we knew

but there’s no breath among the stars

no answer in the garden

no feelings in the truth

desperate we turn around the beauty
asking – why – is it necessary
in this sedative prison

the crazed man finds the answer in a prophet
the lucky ones in a patent office
the rest of us have to bear the humiliation of
finding truths in wooden coffins




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