Eating Your Hands
Oil on Canvas
36x36

DIRTY FEET KNOW NO BOUNDS

Perching in the canopy of an apple tree

Cupped in the arm of the perfect favorite branch

I am a dandelion seed

A kiss blown and floating over the animals

Even past those mean old geese

Skyscrapers of straw to climb

Heels dig into soft fur and fly bareback fearless to everywhere

Dirt roads to mulberry bushes

Fields of Queen Anne’s lace and Black-eyed Susans

Before the glasses there were softer shapes but every color

Where rust and dust are as beautiful as the smell of gasoline and my father’s sweat

My mother’s long hair and soft body circling me in the afternoon, filling my ears with song

A white cotton curtain dances the breeze in

Every moment is a world

As magic as a firefly I can cup in my hands and become

As precious as a tiny frog

As safe as a blanket with a tiger cat named Claude

I am of this land in summer

Alive and bursting forth

Blue Moon Reunion

Dear Sirs

Ganesha oil at the nape of my neck
My paint unsteady for the heat
and some fucking expensive ankle killing shoes

A shiny object
Completely masked
An overexposed tree in a swamp
I will myself not you mark your places in the room

I Lie gratuitously
Oh HEY
So glad to see you
and you and you and you
and soon to be you, too

a little for you a little for me
a little for you a little for me
a little for you a little for me

The branches to climb on

I am a dragon
I kissed your arrows
Caught you in the headlights
Shoot my shoulders back and smile at every alligator

Lost and itchy in your flannel and soft cotton
You are that painful to view
I question my very existence

What monster of mine drove me there and parked for so long?

Insignificant
untethered
spilled down a leg of my favorite jeans

I laugh and laugh and laugh
My insides betray me
My fingernails bite my own hands

Did you see that MOON?

Sincerely,
The one you should have treated like your sister

INSPIRATION FROM DRING

Underpainting
Exorcism Frog, companion to Lilypad
Oil on Canvas
8x8

"Procrastination Phoenix"
Oil on Canvas 24x36
in progress

MAGICAL THINKING

If you could be game, Muse
If you could be present, DJ
If you could be available, Friend

I would wrap your mind in fun
Kiss your neck freely at all hours
See your pain and raise you up a little every day

Because you are worth it
and so am I
Laugh with me into the sunset

And while I fantasized those soft lips that bruised mine
The mirrors of abject fear cloaked in beauty
Freckles and changed pallor of early morning
Seen and appreciated

A dying man vomited on the carpet
His skeleton barely sustaining the t-shirt
Cool grey sockets to match his hair
Struggling for dignity and a bathroom
"oh man oh man oh man"

Both of us willing with all of our might
To be a stuffed animal instead of a peanut

Both of us
Refusing to give up
Just yet

UNLOCKING THE SUBTERFUGE

Leading with my heart

Wide open and wide eyed

I stretched toward a ray of hope

Spread, plead, bled

Into the depths of ruin

Completely,  

Wholly,

Nonchalantly,

Effortlessly,

Squashed

Offering up no resistance

Destroyed, pitted and pitched

Low fruit pulverized

Too ripe on the vine

And too foul to merit a second...thought

As if I was never there

Tripped over but never seen

Gazing from between cement and heel

A timer goes off

5-8-12