I haven't exactly been updating this blog too much, but I have a 365 poetry project going which may or may not interest you.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
I Yawned with My Mouth Closed
I found myself on top of a building
my toes half-buried in soft gravel
that felt like a shag carpet
the moon made faces at me
and the clouds tasted like
dark mountains
I felt my feet take me
like they knew where
I should end up
the wind felt beautiful
against my cheeks
as I fell
a cool breath of hookah smoke
blown through a light bulb filament
even halfway down
I hoped to land in a hot air balloon
and sail away to some
far-off island where everything smelled
like pineapples
instead of splattering my bones and muscles
into gutters and fire hydrants
but I woke up
and wished that I was back in a
Chicago hotel
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
"Whatever", Someone Said to Me
I listened to the chanteuse
singing her heart about
something I could only understand
through the feel of the tongue
the smell of the storm
came in through the broken
window screen
and it tasted like the first car wash
of the day
trees shook and danced
mimicking the sounds of raindrops
that hadn't yet fallen
leaves made landing strips
of the sidewalk
alongside the stray blades
of grass
I heard the brakes squeal
under pressure
mixed-gender yells and screams
a romantic horror
that went to black at the last scene
as the two lovers
were about to kiss the knife
I wasn't sure
why I was bleeding
but
I knew
why I was laughing
Monday, December 28, 2009
my tryst
with
the beloved
princess ended
quite abruptly
when she
realized
the crown
I wore
on my head
was just
a trick
of the light
Monday, December 21, 2009
That Dream Was Exhausting!
I stood waist deep in a cloud
holding a fishing pole over the side
I wore a fisherman's hat covered in hooks
each one labeled with the name of a
past lover
I reeled in a mermaid
the hook embedded in her fourteenth vertebra
her blood was green and blue
she cried and her tears turned into birds
that plummeted into the waves
I would have thrown her back into the sea
but she knew too much
so I strapped her to a rocketship
and launched her into space
the last thing she said
were words sung into my ears
that broke my bones
and stained my lungs
I told my grandchildren
so they could understand
why I walk with a cane
and a limp
Saturday, December 19, 2009
she had this look in her eyes
as though she knew
the contents of their wallets
with one flip of her stray bangs
she rode into town in a car
painted black and grey
the license plates looked blank from afar
reflecting the stars blotted out
by exhaust
she wore pigtails braided and knotted
with a man's vocal cords
the wind took her arm
and escorted her between buildings
stepping onto curbs
smothering leaves under soft heels
like it was someone's birthday
but her horns didn't fit right
they were too big when I was close
too small otherwise
and from across the street
she had this look in her eyes
as though she knew
---
Fumbling for inspiration after an extra long paper, I wrote this poem inspired by this drawing by the lovely and talented Sonmi.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
should have been there
instead
when the comet
hit your eye
when you
gained those
superpowers
all the sounds
you saw
and the faces
you heard
and the words
of pity
written on
the back
of plastic flower
stems
Saturday, December 05, 2009
pick up
your feet
don't scuffle
socks leave
footprints
too
you swallow
too loud
switches don't
require
that much
strength
don't let
the carpet
know
you're around
Monday, November 30, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Juked
One of my prose-poems was published over at Juked today. Go check out all their poems and short stories. They have some really great works up. I could waste whole weekends on that site given the right mood.
Also, according to the editor, I'm the first Alvin to be published on Juked. Milestones.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
The Riot Makes Wishes at 11:12
nose made love to knees
but it was all the same
the way you pronounced it
the red wax trickled
down your cheek bones
onto the cotton
stained and smothered
like children's faces
rubbed into piles of
rotten berries
"how do you think
jam is made?"
father says
as he zips his fly
and puts the button
back where it
should have been
always been
mother lynched the sheets
but rubbing out the scratches
was hard
even with all the matches
she used
sulfur caked into hair
so many wishless birthdays
dried icing
tracing out
the knife blade
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
we met
at the back of my fist
the smell of the tar
lining the bricks
manhole covers were
pillows
the man with the sun-stained
teeth
picked the dirt from his nose
"I touched brain"
he laughed
and slept
the smell of blood
in his fingernails
that he filed down
with business cards
and butcher's knives
fine lines
crossed by dirty
wet socks
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
the spraycan burst
paint flew
into eyes
smiles
teeth smeared
with lipstick
the old man's
elbows
I felt
aluminum
embedded in my
skin
red-tipped
sparkles in
fingerprints
so the cops
would never
trace me
red hands
Thursday, November 12, 2009
boy played
his card games
solitaire
with
the aces
all lined-up
like men
wearing
blindfolds
sucking on
cigarettes
waiting for
the firing
squad
to show
them
what they've
been
missing out
on
Sunday, November 08, 2009
"don't"
the son said to his father
tears streaming down his face
as he flapped the pillowcase open
it felt like home
he dropped the puppies in
tongues stuck out
teasing all the school children
on the playground
tied up the open end
tighter than any shoe
or fist
he elbowed the door open
afternoon sidled in
shook its jacket
and took a seat
next to the mass of pillowcase
"don't"
his boots led him out
sunlight over one shoulder
puppies over the other
he thought they felt like marshmallows
his son followed him
tripping over the color of autumn
reciting something that sounded
like a song
it was coughing
"don't"
they came to the river
with the colorless fish
swimming and constant movement
stars in orbit
in deep space without a bottom
he slung the pillowcase off
his back
homes and marshmallows
yip-yapping all at once
"don't"
he let go
hovering for a second
like a ball of ice floating up
into upside-down space
"don't"
his wife woke up somewhere
mid-kiss with another man
Saturday, November 07, 2009
I Thought You Said "It's a Game of Chants"
I threw darts at the
blank pictures on the wall
while my uncle slept
his troubles away
in the arms of another
high school girl
I traced the exit wounds
with the conductor's wand
my brother's shoulder
where he would have been
shot
I led the orchestra
off-tempo
the clarinets whined
my parents watched the
radio
waiting for the song
to waltz and smile to
floorboards creaking
toes digging pits of brass
into igloos
but all they played was static
so they danced anyway
Friday, November 06, 2009
The Lotion is a Lie(!)
I went deaf in my
left ear
so I cursed at the widow
from upstairs
where she kept lost socks
and dirty towels
she sat in front of the wall
with the hole cut into it
and the glass taped over
a window that would have
been so easy to break
if these elbows just
forgot to bleed
but I entertained her
I told her my name
twice
and she still chose to
call me something else
a name that was hardly
a word
little more than a hammer
taken to a hangnail
I covered the clown window
with lined paper
highlighter marks all over
so that she could feel
the sun on her skin
just the way I did
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Plastic Eggs Stain My Teeth
I poked at the heart
with an open umbrella
the old man's cane
surgery without ever
attending medical school
or watching tv
I picked my head up
and tried to read the digital
clock in the store window
but the half-bottle of aspirin
blocked the minutes
so I either had some time
or
I left him where he was
the rain had stopped
months ago
so I filled my pockets
with pennies and
sprinkled them among
the children with hungry
faces
I convinced their tummies
they were filled with chocolate
copper and brown mixed into
dirt
left a crunchy taste
like desert skin or
the tales wives lie about
and the size of their fingers
told me where they
hoped to find their next
meal
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
I Should Have Worn Cleats
I climbed on top
of the roof of my car
and stared into the windows
of the neighbors on holiday
even on a Tuesday
I saw the calendars
red X's
over the days that
hadn't happened yet
grey boxes lined with
blue paper and dolls
with buttons for eyes
I broke the window
and bought them a
welcome mat
a present for baby
I dug into the dog's food
steak and potatoes
processed into a plastic dish
served with the pride and care
of empty ketchup bottles
I invaded their pictures
stole away musical
instruments
in bags with holes in
the bottoms
I planted the water
and I read the name
on the mailbox
hit by the feeling
of shaking hands with my
grandfather
the war hero who had
never held a gun
and I left
Monday, November 02, 2009
Bagels and Tea for the Lactose Intolerant
I gave her my number
told her to call me back
so she shot an arrow
into my skin
telephone poles traced
around the barbed arrowhead
she cut her thumb
with a butter knife
my tears were laughing
while she jumped out
the first-story window
and watered the grass
with her veins
and a neighbor walking a dog
turned the the hose on
and drowned our lemon tree
until we didn't have
nearly enough sour to
match the bitter
so our burnt tongues
became a silent melody
Facial Hair Isn't Necessary (But It Gets the Girls)
I killed the man
with the heart-shaped badge
I kicked his muscles
spit on his bones
I sawed off his ears
and yelled into them
"what do you have
that I don't"
words of doubt and
reluctant grinding of teeth
biting of taste buds
I went home and
told my wife what I did
and all she did
was stare into the refrigerator
where she stored her emotions
hermetic
sloshing about in brine
she had four servings of regret
for dinner
which she vomited up
by morning
I helped myself to breakfast
trying to taste the spoon
more than the cereal
and I greased the wheels
on the chair
while I typed out a letter
with an address I forgot
I committed myself
to the lines in the street
just for a moment
to learn to forget
Sunday, November 01, 2009
I left my
insides outside
where we picked
up the down
for these pillows
and sheets and I
would have
said otherwise
but your eyes
lied
to me
while your glasses
said everything
I needed to know
and you brought
your eyes
up to mine
to kiss away
the smile from
my face
and I turned
my head away
at the last
minute
five in
one of
your hours
Thursday, October 29, 2009
I was fed up
with the
roommates
so I started
hiding their
things in the
nooks
and crannies
of the apartment
"What are
my condoms
doing
in this
carton of
eggs?"
I don't
think they
understand
my sense
of
humor.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
he pointed out the window
and said "the ocean is out there"
over the roof-curled smog past the
changing streetlights past the
fog past the
couples breaking up past the
kids riding plastic trucks past the
students scribbling late homework past the
crayons and wax past the
screaming voices past the
whispers to no one past
last week past
light pollution past
the marine layer past
the horizon past
blue skies
the ocean is out there
he pointed out the window
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
a handful of stones
One of my micro-poems is featured over at a handful of stones today. Check them all out. I love how much can be said in a few short lines.