wind

wind pushes the sand
into waves, the desert flows
around sage collecting
in me

dischordant windchimes
beg mercy
while windows whistle

I have been cemented here,
a dryness that takes root
and flowers into dispair

wreckage of desire

I want to feel your fingers
drawing lines, a pen and ink of touch along the
whole of me, mark me up and down.
nails dragging down biceps, tracing
veins on forearms, finally finding my hand.
interweaving into a Gordian knot. Bound
hand to hand we find the texture of pleasure
in the fire of flesh. A wildfire consuming
two bodies, a wildfire consuming
two souls until the tide of satiation
and an ocean of breath sings
amongst the wreckage of desire

after

I seek through furrows
turned in earth, and deeper along
the bedrock flowing further
into the past, calcites and
chirts sharpened into points, bound to
tools I no longer know, red
dirt, iron rich. polychromed
and lost in effigy.

worn to exposure, towers
carved of rock, preservation of the hardest.
daggers of light show the solstice and
bones find their memories
written under the skies
flame.

for now

small hours

an anorexic crust hangs
lopsided on
the nearly empty
plate of the night.
hungry clouds
devour crumbs.
the insatiable void of the darkness
is heavy with desire

rio abajo

I fall into the flow of your hands, a cradle to carry me
past the poems of the cottonwood, stories newly born
in the spring winds.

drought has reduced you to a meandering ribbon
among the islands of willow and saltcedar.
But there is enough of you to carry enough of me,
the currant a melody of miles.

I will stay until we are both lost in the sea.

before

If I opened my chest for you
ribs splayed open like a book
my heart a story incomplete and
the hollow of my lungs waiting,
would you cup my heart
in the valley of your hands and
bring it closer to yours? Would
you breathe a song to fill
my lungs? When you have
written your story on my heart will
you return it to me more than it
was before?

canvas

the rain over Santa Fe
reminds me of brush strokes
the water bending to earth
bristles from the clouds
there is no method and
only discipline enough to fall
but there is intensity in the
broad expressive strokes of color
left behind on the thirsty
canvas of the desert

listening

the faintest vibrations emerging
through the silence of glass,
whispers along the surface tension.
a prayer of faint hope grows
in the hours when it is forgotten
we are prey
and the heart determines a god is listening.
the runes of a ghost drawn
in the chill rising along the spine

faith

words chewed up and spit out
mumbled teeth just
a strand of busted
blood red pearls,
truth is cyanide and
I bite down and
grind my prayers
to the bone, because goddamn!
I need every bit of faith I can steal

____

the stitches of miles unravel,
threads of paint pull me onward.
A tar paper ribbon loose in the wind
the destination unwritten

escape

Flying down a highway the
consistency of worn out chewing
gum in '68 Chevy step side. the
cab is an oven, I feel the heat
crawling though my mesh back
and on down my neck,
the sun is fixed on me, no clouds ever to hide behind.
Windows down, the only ac
Is the wing vents squared to my
face, speed doesn't cool the air
but it sure makes this bucket rattle,
it may be old, but it stays true to the line I point.

If the engine lasts to night fall
I just might make it out of this goddamn desert.
I'm going someplace that water isn't
a memory of an empty arroyo,
gonna baptize my self with salt water
and learn a new sadness

lair

entice me with
your spiral seduction,
a subtle math too delicate
to be dangerous.

wrap me in silk
cocooned and safe.

take from me the cup of your promises,
it corrodes my will and
calms my adrenaline soaked heart,
let me die a quiet death
safe in your lair.

fires

1
Divine fingers sow fire,
A phosphor trail of
Desire along
Tender quick neurons.

Tongues ripe with flames
Persistent chemistry
Ignite bodies,
Flesh consumed, an insatiable
Hunger distills pleasure
From raw lust.


2

I seek the blood of a lost god
My hands slick with desire
A mouth full of prayers

I have crucified myself
For your holy flesh
A penitents soul free of
This miserable cage

The hymn of my blood sings
To the new moons purity
My heart a bonfire in the
Coal black night
Begging for defilement

another night

the moon's jaundice is
newly born from the rocky jaws
of the horizon,
turning the fullness of my face
to her, I am
grateful for the softness of
the kiss.
opening my fist
I release the last
prayer into the night
the trees almost sound
like an ocean lost in
the desert nights flow.
the traffic a slow erratic breath,
a broken life struggling
with an incomplete mercy
and the hopelessness of empty hands.
the wind steals the warmth
and memories of your touch,
the simple clarity of loneliness
a focus narrowing to desire
a deity of want
a completeness of purpose
lost in the night

visiting the dead

as a pilgrim I come to your god
given mountain, to know the truth of your
paint brushed convocation, its litany of silence answered
with solitude. I come to feel
your earth under a cloud cushioned sky
supported by an architecture of geology, the slippery volcanism
worn by ages of wind. a pallet of fire still spreads along the silhouette.

I wait for your ghost under a clock of stars until nights edge fades
to a palest jimson flower dawn. the innuendo of flowers plays
along the stark stratigraphy of sandstone walls. The music of
a land captured in the beat of your heart and the canvas of your life.

a question

If I come to you, a penitent,
bleeding a prayer of forgiveness,
hymns carved into the pages of my flesh,
my tongue pierced with remorse.
Would you lift from me this leaden crown
of thorns, and place upon me
the mercy of your forgiveness, the
benediction of your fingertips?

church

let me pray in the church of your arms
whisper to me your sermon,
a balm to my profane ears
I will sing the hymn of your hair,
take the sacrament of your lips
and the bread of your body.
I lay myself on your altar
a sacrifice for
what sanctuary you offer

inevitably

the ember of your lips
leave tracers, tail lights
captured in a long exposure,
fingers failing to grasp your leaving
smudge the spectrum lines.
memories shifting frequency,
inevitably moving beyond sight.

the stars are out of focus
having blurred into noise,
the slow static of loneliness.

loose change

with both hands shoved into my throat
I fumble for loose change words.
digging through all the things not said,
waded up thoughts and crumpled
half sentences. missed opportunities to
say anything. second guessed and
choked down, Freudian slips
that weren't. jesus christ!
and fuck! are abundant. but wait

please, I know there is something, just give
me a second to find what
you want to hear.

seeking

sing me a lullaby to steal
my mind, a sirens song
to lure me to the oblivion of sleep.
hold me in the cradle of your arms,
the bough of your breast
a haven to dream in. give me
sanctuary so I might rest.

4

1
a tracery of strokes, the
whispered acceptance of paper,
another heart bleeds out with
the inks persitant need to
entomb emotion.


2
punch drunk scrawl hammered
out on keys that refuse
to open any door.


3
crippled prayers scratched
in an arthritic voice, whispered
words echo longing and plead
for the restoration of peace.


4
desolation pushes out a pain
unrequited by waiting,
cellulytic flesh offers
only a taunting emptiness.

lost at sea

with moistened anticipation
I draw lines of desire
on your skins succulent canvas
connecting points of passion,
an origami of fingers and
bodies folding into one,
mouths sharing a single breath.
tumbled sighs and
a chorus of pleasures
crescendo
in an wild ocean
the color of lust

I would

I would hold you like the ocean
feel your tides between my ribs.
fingers learning to see currants,
and depths to extinguish dreams
like stars

I would hold you as the wind.
catch you in my hair
tangling to knots
binding your passing,
your breath the same as mine
then gone

I would hold you as a mountain
rising to meet you.
my time a flicker,
a whisper to lift
you no higher

after the quake

my bones don't
fit my old skin,
seismic shifts and drifting
fault lines have left hollows
and ridges, cracks in the veneer
of paper skin,
old stories smudged and
wrinkled

after shocks
and tsunamis
seek equilibrium
and a new skin
to let these bones rest

seppuku

I kill myself from the inside out
each poison a different dagger.
they slide so easily, the razor
sharp chemical edge. through
the connective tissue of memory,
the bones of the past, and the
viscera of the future

sleepless

filaments of light drop
from stars crawling across
the ceiling of the night,
tangling into my hair
like your breath
while you sleep.
the music of shadows
plays across the moon
of your face as dreams
dance behind your eyes.
I am free of your self
consciousness to stare,
to memorize you.

The slow silence passes
in times habitual march.

I morn the nights quiet,
the slackening depth
of color a precursor for
the days glare