Baggage

Yes, these are mine. They belong to myself
But not my whole self - for part, you see,
Was too drunk to fly, and in a stupor
Gift-wrapped my heart for a person in need of one.

I packed them all, checked them all,
Threw out the heaviness I wished to leave behind,
The torturous dreams and masochistic hopes,
The unspoken words: I cannot carry them.

No, they have not been out of my sight
Which is more than I can say for perspective
And reason, which I lost in a flood of unreality,
And in search of which I go - there, now, today.

I carry nothing prohibited, nothing dangerous,
Not the arrows of Eros, yanked from my chest,
Nor the poisoned dress that I intended to...
Only the dulled edges of corroded things.

'Follow Your Heart'

Untitled

you sigh

a stay of execution
just the sound you make
as you reload your gun

and me

watching the seconds tick by
wondering

when will the clock stop
what time will it be
when you finally kill me

Persephone

Yes, I am coming, mother,
Ankle deep in asphalt,
Under the cracked eyes
Of the cameras in the subway.

I bring the festering heat,
The mosquito's sting,
The stench of overripe decay,
And the hurricane's roar.

You will kiss away
The pomegranate blessings,
The gifts of rubies from my love,
And bitterly I may smile and say

Mother, do you care
That your sunlight hurts my eyes
Or that I hear death
When you speak of life?