old coins over my lips for Charon

I contemplate death
    more often
      in a state of panic

          when I’m embarrassed

        I wager bets against the clock
           & when I don’t drop
               I cash in

        it’s like life is grinning
          and when I’m set on living
      something fatal will finally happen


ETA: ???

I can barely sleep
          these nights are brimming
                                with tears &
                  I            know I’m dying
        a slow                 death [all the time]
                             but the engine just revved
                      & I hear the scream of the siren
               or is it a private jet
                either way it’s the most expensive
                                                  form of
                                because once you’re on board
                            there’s only one way forward
                  here & gone

death december

my heart shaped box is
       satin indigo violet, dark
        but beautiful, silky|smooth
  like baby flesh
            your fingers graze the net
      some time

            green is my favorite color
       & not for everything it affords
             nor is jealous for
         but for how it compliments
            me when you stare for
                too long,

        ask to remove the lid
            and I’ll respond the same in
                            there’s only so many
                      hours in a day
                                       needless to say
                      I can’t guarantee much time

        I’ve got a sordid rep & two widowed
                grandmothers in twenty days
           I can only hope I’m not next in line
        I can’t speak for November and I was
     blind waiting for winter that
         I suppose now I’ll have to reclaim
             this black December as mine

            we’re all nervous souls gripping for
      people to hold in the dark online
               the anxiety kills me
     I didn’t think my birthday would be
            spent in black for this reason
         disaster was flirtatious now
              its given me its recipe
           if you find me in the dark
           hold me still … maybe
               for a split second this world
        will stop spinning


little corpses

I have no bearings
           | gods can take this
            indecent morning
            back |
  what gift
            is listlessness
       what stronghold

        I assure you,
        nightmarish invaders
                it all

        little corpses
                crafted from tar
                            & driftwood

        maybe it is that we might
        be here one day and not the next
                      experiencing moments
                             like tiny hateful bells

       I’ll toast to the crows



Cradled in my arms
       are lifeless feathers

              The fragile heap
                     my white raven
                     & first love
                             is gone

                   I will never be the same


cloak and dagger

Halloween c re eps__________
             in shows of anatomy
             like something is laughing
                                  winged satire
                                       with the reminder
                                     a looming promise
                                        of death]

              immortal as spirit may come
                I cannot say I fear the moment
                    day and hour unknown
                       just love me as if I was never

           the sprinkle of obscure snowflakes
                   will always become me

Play Along

Caught in a chasm between two worlds,
standing for one and barely visible,
so faint you can scarcely see
                                       my cellophane

I blink off screen and reappear
                                    somewhere else
          I’ve drunk away night & day
                      an unbridled sort of mankind
                                  lately I find
                                        I’m not able to cry

       [I think the tears will well but never fall
                                      if that’s any sort of
                                consolation at all]

            in time I think by design I will

                             my destiny’s end

           Whether I look forward to fire &
                               or simply the other side
                                     of this galactic veil
                          is my Creator’s kiss and tell

           It may come like a thief in the night
               in my sleep, or before my eyes,
                 [whatever is up there has spared
                       me too many times]

I shall not know.
And neither will you.


Last Moments

My stomach dropped
            when the butterfly I supposed dead
                         disappeared &
                                    right where I left it

     it wandered soft over bare knuckles
        flapping orange and black wings
       & stilled on my little finger
                            just long enough
                                       for a picture

Did I capture your last moments,
        before you were swallowed back
                                    into the ether?

                        I did discover your tiny body, later—
                        [Truly forboding, that feeling]
                  in the same exact position
                          Your beauty had dimmed
                                  & I knew/ then
                                         you, whoever
           lurked behind that
 thin black tongue
searching for nectar
               were gone.


The Vigil

For the simple realists
The stoics
The enchanted
The kind we all took for granted
For those kind ahead of their time

The kind whose rabid possession

possessed us—

dreamy words you can drown in
& suffer for hours on end
I am with you, now,
I see a reflection
God only knows if I can attempt
reincarnation (because this time
                            like every other time
                            I fucked up
                            I fucked myself Up)

The bruise on my hand
The blood on the wall
I’m trying to figure out
Where it all went unbearably south
                             Or is it inevitable
                    Free will be damned
                             I think I was never meant
                             for repose [so]

I find peace on a lonely stretch of beach
              Hovering BTs reaching for me
desperate to sweep me under
               & away
               The further I get
               the more I see
               the more I am ushered [marching]

               To the golden monsters waiting
                      For me