In Redefining Relationships


Bone figures bursting into the spotlight,

leaving the dark becoming friends

with the sun. They signed a contract together.


Jesus and the bone figures bought

promise rings at the mall jewelry store,

gave them to each other at Red Lobster,


an in between location where both felt

relatively comfortable and uncomfortable,

sitting in a red and black booth wearing lobster bibs.



Working the ground

with my worn hands,


churning the morning soil

turned black by the night’s


feet pattering to the beat

of the Indian chief’s drum,


masquerading in feathers

crashing the rain dance.


Searching with my fingers

where the footprints dropped,


kissing Earth mother, moistening

her lips, calling up her desire,


for her thin slimy tongues

that burrow to the surface,


each with five French hearts

seeking more of those wet kisses.


Primitive Chef


skin sizzles

I blink


fingers boil

I blink


hand retracts

I blink


reach to faucet

I blink


cool water soothes

I breathe.


Still reaching for the

hot pot.


No classical



No muscle



Saved by



Mending Slacks


I decided to stitch my own pants,

with the needle and thread

I took from my little sister’s

friend Kassie’s house, while “keeping

an eye out on the girls”—even though

I was only 12, a whopping year older.


I stole off and sniffed about Kassie’s

place, shuffled through the closets,

the layers of fresh folded towels,

and lined beauty products, but no thread.


I’d had it up to here

(apparently a height

between the chin and eyes)

with the holes in my jeans.

Holes in the knee and the crotch—

starting to fray. Looking even poorer.


The girls played Barbie with naked

Kens strewn about the dollhouse.


Went into her parents’ room,

riffled through the dressers, pulled soft satin

undergarments, and threaded ones without asses.


To the hard night stand

stuffed with wadded tissues

batteries, and remotes controls.


Slipped into the master-bath,

and found it in the medicine cabinet

next to the scents—

a traveler’s sewing kit.


Put the kit in my pocket

stitched my pants at home

and took to the road that night.




Drinks after drinking.

Drinks at meetings.

Thought I’d go thirsty.

Monsters and Red Bulls,

stale coffee with sweet and low,

and almost always a bottle—

for a baby. I’m not a baby.




Fiberglass racecar bed  to show they love me.

Fighting in circles  around the kitchen  island. Mom and Dad.

Plastic rocking horses,  swing set, backyard weed plants.