Monday, January 03, 2011

Looking through my posts, I was wondering why I had so many unpublished drafts, but then I remembered the exclusivity I wanted to keep at the time. I often type out first drafts on here before writing them out, in ink, into my journal, which is a bit of a backwards process but that's just how I like doing it.

I'll try to publish a few of my favorite drafts every so often. Here are two poems I wrote for Amelia for the Summer Secret Santa exchange. She likes werewolves.


I guess I should have known
the disheveled clothes, the
wild hair, the taste for meat,
I thought they were just more
reasons to love you

but it's all so obvious now
and I guess it's too late
since that night you bit me
"we're all prone to kinkiness"
I thought in my sleep

but looking on the bright side
at least we get to spend more
moon-swept nights together,
running through the countryside
scaring sheep, chasing cattle,
just the way lovers should


we ran all night
our palms pressed into
the half-dirt
half-mud concoction
sprinklers turned on
along the wet cement

trees twisted together
and apart in the wind like
ropes held together by a
force of will
and a hanging bell

late night joggers
saw us as shadows flashing
out of the corners of their eyes
and dismissed us just as quickly
hearts continuing to respire

I smelled tree roots
digging into the worm's home
the father silenced
by the extra bedfellow
corpses spooning dirt
and moonlight climbing out
from between opened

stars tumbled
sounds of mothers praying
and wooden feet
stamping on weeds as
blood issued from
sheep's clothes that went

we laughed about it
in the morning
our cheeks smeared with
dried red
wearing things that
weren't clothes

one last kiss

it's all we could do
to ignore the dread
of bottle-driven parents
and the thirty days before
our next night out

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