“Zen & Violence”
Tiny bubbles multiply on the surface of my skin
Then wash away, winding down the drain.
The gentle back and forth of palm against palm
Leaves no trace. No mark
Save for the scars I’ve collected
In twenty-two years of Zen and violence.

Memory: the thief, the coward
Won’t let me forget, won’t let me remember.
Won’t draw a straight line for me to walk
So I wander, I stumble
From landmark to landmark.
And I find no reason
No reason at all.








“Like Animals Do”
She burrows down into the darkness of my sheets
Like a dung beetle clawing into the earth
She goes deep inside and dares me to follow
So I dig in deeply, warmth finding warmth
And breathe only when she lets me
Holding on for dear life

It was Independence Day when I saw her
Selling snake oil to the credulous
Bright green leaves wrapped in yellow tissue paper
Her face was a memory from my future
Though I didn’t know it then
We were soon-to-be, we were never-to-be
Insects in a web we could not see
So when the ground opened up and all the sinners fell through
We dug deep into each other
Holding on for dear life