Red Flickering Eyes

in the night’s sky
a woodpecker kept hitting
on an ivory tree

one:
dissipating light
photon by photon
from a man’s throat to a girl’s larynx.

two:
tying red rubber gloves to his roots
with hackneyed actions.
lets father think he’s insane, holding a candle in broad daylight.

… :
there’s a vial of poison
with an “elixir” label
hanging on the mast of another man’s beard

  • a man hanging upside down
    in a beating heart is gulping it down.
    so when the red light stops blinking
    we’re free to assume, he’s resting

because he’s tired.

Grey Cup

she squints her eyes
tries to flap the tears away from her ego,
tries to
flap her broken wings back to normal.

she takes an x-ray like medicine,
always wanting to resurrect the dead man
groping inside her ribcage

or wait…

she’s the dead bone inside of him – poking her fossil teeth
& trying to
resurrect herself from the plague, from decay;
from the curse God placed on us –

drinking from the cup Jesus drank,
& living
or rather still struggling, to live a second time.

man don’t teach you how to breathe,
so who does?

Walking on Water

surface tension:

is an act i’m used to.
it stretches, with each step, never
accepts to swallow my feet despite
my desperation.

i’ve struggled
so many times
to go beyond my breath; beyond atlantis:
watch a land fall
beneath the underwater
and take my body with him.

but,

it stretches its skin,
lets my feet build a path, like chakra
builds on one
who never knew she could
walk on water.