Thursday, December 30, 2010

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Impulse Outlet No.12

Waves, tresses, curls falling
to the floor,
the wrong colour,
on the inside gold

On the outside tarnished
with years of squaller,
hiding from what's under,
stained in brown

My fingers, held captive,
in their scissored extensions,
watch what's gold underneath
being tossed to the floor

As my dismembered fragments
drift past the sink-ledge,
I know it is true:
I am gold no more.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Jude of James

My dearest

Saint Jude,

am I a lost cause

for God

and for myself?


Maybe

one day

your patron will save

my soul

from rumours of Hell

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Ring of Fire In Early Winter

As he threw his coffee
out of the moving car window
it was almost symbolic
as it splattered across the glass,
and dripped down the mirrors
like watery paint

My jaw held agape,
I was once well-adjusted
to a situation's escalation-
so incredibly fast

Illegal U-turns
burned screeching-hot tires
grazing concrete enclosures
that got in their way
And avid avoidance
of little white peace pills
for under-tongue surrender
I could not persuade

---
A pt.2 to "Father."