What is your name for god?

I am a ghost on half
bended knees, waiting.
Striking matches with
my tongue, the lyrics
licking the door. Sin is soft
and catches easy.
The choir is rampant.

What good is forgiveness without forgetting.

There is a wolf or is it a man
with a book, either way there
are knives and hunger. Sometimes
there is a choice of meal.

I am on my way, a pillar of salt
melting into the sea.




.

Invictus

I can not help but put my fingers
into the heart of what adores me,
to feel the small life give itself to me.

You are so indomitable in your ignorance,
too bad you never convinced yourself of your beliefs.

Can you feel the rapture coming? These spasms
of devastation. Scream into me, fill me with your fear.
Such a pleasant little hum.




.

do you believe in god

The skin of this nectarine gives
under my teeth, it is memory of
buttons and first whispers,
bodies overflowing with joy.

Is balance a function of time?

Once I was a god shaping the flesh of desire.
But I forget my teeth and a drought has found my fingers.

The sweetness runs down my chin;
this is faith enough.




.

grace

1
I’m sorry if I don’t have a flag to
pin upon your chest. These sheets
are white, isn’t that surrender enough?
You have already left messages
in my blood. I’ll forgo the luxury of war.
I shape my mouth around the sound of taps.
Can you translate?

2
I kick a fusee hissing past the edge
of the ravine, the red glare falling
into a darkness newly littered
with safety glass stars.
I sweep the road clean,
pushing the evidence under the
twisted ribbon of guardrail.
It held against the determination/need
of momentum.

3
The skin is complete, a bag
without release, a corpse swelling.
This season it is the plague,
something beyond the knife
but failing to dim the black hope
of this edge.




.