Persephone Drinks Hot Cocoa

Mouth
every mouth
every mouth breathes
every mouth breathes autumnal.
Every mouth breathes autumnal investigations.
Every mouth breathes autumnal investigations
     tinged with sepia tones-
Torch trees
live in lazy desperation,
these last cider days
in burrows and blanket caves.
Heat in color - amber, saffron, goldenrod, maize.
Sepia tones
sepia tones tinged
sepia tones tinged with investigations.
Sepia tones tinged with autumnal investigations.
     They see every mouth breathe.

See every mouth.
                Mouths.

You and I (bomb)

promise to fill in the blanks and the stains
on your teeth -
that reckless kind of make-believe.
We'd eat each other if we had to

frame that dirty orgasm or shove
it in
an arbitrary pocket.
We'd eat each other if we had to

wear vital organs on the outside
or choose between burning witches and the books we hate.
We'd eat each other if we had to

dream more words to describe
states of mind
and the juice of a nectarine running down your chin.
We'd eat them if we had to.

The love of being is not enough
to keep you in my bed.
The love of beings is not enough to buy a ticket to Turkmenistan.

I did that thing that everyone with a blog does...

When I started this blog, I promised myself that I'd update it faithfully. Talk is cheap. However, after listening to some friends read their own stuff recently, I'm back on the inspiration wagon. I've written a couple of new things I'd like to share, if anyone still cares even a tiny bit. So here goes.

TRANSIT

Why would I
wear heels on an airplane?
Bathrooms fill with
middle-aged women in tangerine
jackets. Calling Patience and
ordering salads from McDonalds.
I'm not wearing any makeup-
are you disenchanted by the hair
on my upper lip? More hair
than we know what to do with.
Hair
everywhere. Especially
down there. You know the places.
It was the night before I left
forever. Touching breasts
in public places.

Now they're calling daughters in Anchorage and
becoming lactose intolerant.

So many places
to hide. Melting into
corners,
buying shadows from McDonalds.

3 and 1/2 hours, 3 and 1/2 months.
We can only sleep
in transitory places.


JUST TO KILL TIME

Blank journals become
American novels and
pop songs.
Bloody ink commits everything to nothing.

Alone among girls giggling.
I don't want
children.
Those bedtime conversations before I sleep in my sleep.

Nightmare Before
moving words badly organized
come out the mouth
                      mouth
                      mouth and
                      eyes and color
Windy shorthand,
abbrev. days
appetizing crazy
interpreted tattoo
                      And Chinese food.