One new, one old


All you want

All you want
is a mattress on the floor of an empty room.
Maybe a sheet, maybe a pillow
maybe a crack in the wall for a scrap
of light.

I know this is your kingdom.
A solitude where the final wound
is healed.
I know how much safety there is
in isolation.

I know this room is your canvas
and you would fill it with such
glorious darkness rich
purples, greys and browns
if you lived there

I imagine you there wearing your crown
of ancient metal,
from my camp across the lake
next to the embers.

Just remember there is a door
in your willow cabin
once you have claimed it as
only yours
once you have your safe empty place
just remember there is a door.



In the Philippines
they break the skin
with their fingers,
and pull the thing out -
as you watch entranced
as the fires burn
as the mute night rages.

Do you understand?
They pull your skin apart
to find it:
the cancer, the pus,
the obsessive succubus
eating away at your gums,
violating your private organs.

You see, they go into your body
to find it,
even if they have to
split your skull -
just to get it out
just to sleep in peace
it's worth it.


A collection of my poems:

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