don't resist the insects

curious with legs-- 

you were a terrain to be explored--

the mountains of your thighs--
thick & bristling with sweat--

their mouths sometimes the darkened
half of the moon--

an absent smile--

bodies be-jeweled in the glint
of a lazy sun--

the soil after
the last ponderous snow 
was soft enough
for me to plant myself--

i wanted the creek to stop
& i remembered you telling me
that you are tired

& that you want to take off
the next few years just to 
practice existing

i should have let them take me

the insects--

drone hovering-- 

emerging from beneath the rocks 
where i had planned to escape 
with myself--

how dare they steal
all the best hiding places--

how many stones will
you lift before you let them 
take you?

do you feel your skeleton 
rising to the surface of your skin?

i'm scared it will hurt--

exo-skeletal-- white white ribs 

another memory of
the crescent moon--

i sat by the creek & thought
about what life is like
as a lichen--

to have others not
take notice that you're a live--

to be mistaken for stone
& to cultivate your own
body as the great secret--

maybe the bugs legs
pass over you--

the beetle-- the necklace
of ants-- the ticks with 
their mouths tasting air--

all mistaking my ruffled 
lace-green body--

i touch one--

feel it laugh like a skirt--

i put it on--

lay silent while your blood
turns creek-water clear 

& flows beside me--

this is how close we will
get, lover--

a few feet from each other

avoiding the insects 
& their obsidian bodies--

the movement of stones
is unsettling--

what have you been resisting 
lately?

the seasons turn?

the sinking into the wet earth?

i wish i were brave
like you--

standing at the edge of 
water as the insects
see you-- gaping open--

eager to colonize--

if i were an insect i 
i would be bold
enough to walk up 
you back--

starting at the base--

hairs standing up--

caress of lace--

crescent moon 
bending our knees--

oh but you would know
it was me--

 

was there a forest for you?

leaving dirt smudges on 
your ankles & neck like a lover's mark--

mouth making tree rings in you--

your roots malignant & thick--
bursting from in between bone--

did you yank stones from the earth?

soil beneath fingernails--

was that you who brought dusk too early
in march when we were long ready for
summer?

oh grandmother are your stockings
made of moss now?

& did you know how much
the earth yearned for alone
time with you--

to strip you of shoes & 
drape your socks over the fallen log--

god comes into focus like evening--

tangerine & peach-fleshed--

will you come home too late?

will Mother worry?
her apron tied to the front door--
her body-- a moth hungry for a month 
to bump into--

for now we have the congregation--

the trees to remember each other by
while the green lilts-- fearful 
of still-melting snow--

wipe your hands on my jeans--

i can hide your un-clean in me--

your un-tethered pagan tendencies--

who can help but worship a forest
unveiling herself to you

oh alone--

who were you alone?

was there a rosary to pull from the reeds--

echo of rifles & deer hoof--
the winter is not as long as they said
it would be--

the war cabins of valley forge
sink into the ground--

sometimes i imagine that your bones
are smuggled back to
me in the trees--

at i walk across this creek
on your fallen clavicle--

if they ask me if i saw you
here i will say nothing--

this is between us--

i'll hold your secrets
under the river rocks where
they will be unwritten--

clear as blood--

i know 
i'm making you up--

to tell you like a story--

shake the trees if 
you had a forest--

wipe your hands on me--

mammoth 

we were the last 
of the woolly mammoths

tusks stolen from dead gods--
fur thick with the heat 
of pre-history--

i want to sleep with you--

heavy & frozen--

foot steps shaking 
earth--

& centuries later 
the ground will shake 

with what was the meandering
of my body--

i want to make a carcass
to be found--

when our children resurrect 
themselves in cave paintings
i will know it is time 
to stop roaming--

the continent 
is as small as the face of
a dime--

we know time &
we know where this is going--

where the soil will yield 
towers & man will
fuck the raw earth--

spear & bare foot--

stolen for art--
hands on cave walls--

whose history are we then?

eaten in the fascination
of soil soft skin--

it was i who felt 
the pyramids grow-- felt their
stones hoisted in the hot desert--

felt the pharaohs gold--

the embalming fluid
emptied into the sand--

we are not so different

we white sand & red snow--

in my joints i felt the face of
the sphinx surface in
my wide soul--

i do not ask 

where the others are--

skeletons pounding the 
permafrost like drums--

i want to ask what will 
become of these skulls--

these vessels of snow centuries--

be gentle with us--

weight is not an indication
of anger--

we were quiet here--

felt your birth & gathered
in between cliffs to whisper
our premonitions--

our death had always been
known-- loved--

a kind of weather
beyond the boundaries
of dry & arid--

i dreamed myself 
as a gold king--

in the entrance of the cave
when the ice came
to sculpt me--

& in my head i could
hear your songs--

the ones you used tp
build fortresses

& in my vertabrae
i felt you finding me again--

a specimen of fear--

be gentle be gentle
we knew you 

with your naked pink bodies--

crawling on all
fours from the divide
between the tigress in euphrates

be gentle--

you children with fingers--

oh if you could
wear my corpse what kinds

of stories we
could tell

you & me on the floor
of the cave--

tusks stolen from 
the dead gods--

tell me human

what pyramids are you building?
what bodies 

will you leave for the caves?

all your ghosts are alive in the snow 
dead sparrow mother foot prints pressed in snow 

neon orange sled down the soccer field hill 
red bare skin: you lost your boot in the snow 

they catch on your lashes-- blink bright midnight--
you say they taste like a mouth made of snow 

burial was soft-- as with all snowmen 
from living room watching him sink in snow

that was when we stopped loving each other
when laying with you was an angel of snow

do you remember tulips in your cheeks?
in april it wasn't supposed to snow

too heavy for rooftops-- blend into sky 
your pastel painter thumb--dipping in snow 

our father's sled with the metal runners
garage rusted & eaten by the snow 

i know you're out there waltzing in the snow
with the ghost of a flurry girl of snow

 

i don't want to share

i could plant myself
in garden rows like a good child 

dirt up to my ankles--

the sunflower mobile sky
lullaby me in lilac & blue--

what will you do with 
all you toys?

if you april then 
what am i? you clay pot?
your wilting vase?

& in the attic is the 
plastic castle of our dreams

back open for children
to doll-house play us--

draw bridge ready for 
selective arrivals--

the green carpet is moss
or maybe emerald snow--

planting--

are you growing yet?

are your roots cold 
in the february frost ground--

we-- the packets of seeds
in the top drawer in the kitchen
cabinets--

placed under your skin
with your thumb--
pumpkin & tomato--

a knot of garden-- will
you water me if the snow
refuses to melt?

will you climb up to
the attic on all fours?

the kingdom is plastic--

dungeon waiting--

is this where we'll become
gourds?

i want to take all
my toys & bury them in the
backyard so no one
else can ever play with them--

on our knees--
fingernail dug trench--

the castle swelling 
wave-like & manic--

now the size of our parent's house--

you say that maybe we 
are kings & i laugh because 

the blood coming
from my fingers is indigo 

drawbridge-up 

crumble earthworm sky--

we were to wait 
make ourselves into rows 
like good children 

& here i am plucking 
the eyes of beanie babies 
like seeds--

obsidian iris--

what children are we growing?

brother, 
don't forget to peel off
the walls of your bedroom

we'll want to keep it 
all--

safe in the earth 

where everything is closer to
the underworld--

realm of dangling roots--

the soil tastes like
rotten apple & stem--

your army men will
make great trees one day--

just wait just wait

trust in the patch--

they're waking up
to an empty attic--

it might fly off like
a newspaper cap--

castle behind the garage--

we can plastic live here--
this is a phone call with out a voice--

we halo empty crowned kings--

we perfume-blooded

we selfish children--
ripping ankles from the field--

aching artificial in the lawn

whose toys are these?

all mine all mine 

 

i didn't know it was supposed
to be this much

time is made of snow

i was caught in the fall
last night--

cold wet on my ankles

white summoning ghosts--

i said that i remember everything
in the snow--

we're walking home from
that party when you offered 
to carry me 

& i laughed & threw a snowball
at your head

loving you was brief 
& blanketed--

& we're there 
you & i-- children building a snowman
in the front yard--

with the knowledge that school
is already canceled--

the sky a hazy brownish tint--

we won't finish the snowman--

our boots will be too wet--

& i feel you kissing me--
you with the long brown hair
in the driveway

as feathers melt on
our cheeks--

you tell me you love me 

& the snow melts 
in the road outside--

kamikaze pilots-- 
their engine smoke 

trailing into the cloudy sky--

i didn't know it was supposed
to be this much

i say to myself as
another ghost of mine kneels
on all fours--

she is an artic wolf--
flakes turning to dew on her back--

& the evergreen trees in 
the back yard get taller--

& there are reindeer hooves
planting themselves on the roof

you are there in my attic
holding me by a wad of hair
like yarn--

i'm knitted--

a pink obstacle for
the snow to cover--

sleep walking in a street
of ghosts--

you hold my hand again--

we're walking home from
that party

& you lost one mitten
& i'm happy because i wanted
to touch your fingers
anyway--

outside my front door

i see the little girl 
with three missing teeth--

she throws a snowball
at us & you don't notice--

is it just me then who has
come to live in such 

close proximity to ghosts?

what time finds you when
it snows?

open mouth to 
the sky--

let's catch angels--

i drive home-- dangerous
as the tires highway ice skate

the city: one sleet dream 

& in the lights from
the radio towers 

the snow fall makes 
phone calls home 

to our warm bodies on the porch--
eating handfuls of snow

sledding up the staircase
to our bedrooms

where the world outside will
ache to haunt us--

i am home now with the
window blinds drawn-- 

there's too much out there--

i peak & see you waving
from the driveway--

blow a kiss on the glass--
fog thriving phantom-like--

they canceled school tomorrow 
i tell her

& she holds your hand--
green snow pants & blue knit hat--

i hear melting

it's so loud 

i sleep in the body
of the snowman she is still building

*TW transphobia, gun violence*

plastic spoon & milk carton kills them, not guns 
their hearts murderous with seat belts, not guns

shoelace-knotted weirdos-- hopscotch lovers 
these are the mental-ill culprits, not guns

innocence: a barrel mouth--shrapnel kiss
jump rope nooses, death by recess, not guns

bathrooms-stall hiding secret genitals
violent with gender pairing knives, not guns

surely your body can travel bullet-fast 
you believed in a sunday god, not guns 

blood loss & open wounds kills them, not guns
enough to rain--the rain kills them, not guns 

 

Popped off my knees like bottle caps & became a boy

Daddy crushed diet coke cans & i became a boy

 

hands goldfished in the creek—colorful pebble feet

Don’t feed her too much or she’ll grow into a boy

 

Flag pulled down from its perch—waved laughing upside down

The monkey bars at the park know she will be a boy

 

Reflected in rain-windows—chest wrapped in white gauze—

I scissor cut mountains—pressed my lips to a boy

 

Catch tadpoles & swallow them wriggling & whole—

Amphibian mother—gills are a silly thing for a boy

 

The first man was sliced down the middle— half & half

So you’re wondering which half of you is a boy?

 

I wrote my name first in the fogged window, a boy

a soul planted in pumpkin seeds, harvest the boy

i shipwreck

lights bleary in the night ocean
out one by one--

a city in tilt--

mast snapping 
mossy twig under foot 

we ran away like girls

highway healing
each other-- 

bought the house
with the stilts--

ate hot peaches in august--

& this body had life boats 
but we sold them for 
clip-on earrings & black boots

this is the house we bought
that fell into the ocean--

knees buckling as 

i felt myself un-loving you--

each kiss a kind of apology--

a rejection of the possibility 
of submersion--

i shipwreck--

drop potted african violet 
from the windowsill--

mother with the jars of
basil & thyme--

a pocket watch assimilated into
the salt water--

slow down--

our arms gold & hushed
as the gears drink--

deeper past a german submarine 
that my grandfather will
try & obliterate

with bombs--

the soul of a whale rising
past-- carcass already 
a cathedral at the very very
bottom 

where the animals are 
moon-light & the sun is 
a fearful legend--

you're not coming with--

& when the scuba drivers
come looking they 
will find nothing of value--

wood & metal stomach 
blooming open--

they will bring flash lights--
find my legs broken backwards
from trying to run 
fast enough to walk 
on water--

i imagine maybe you 
read the newspaper

& hear about a shipwreck 
in the headlines--
imagining a treasure chest 
diamond & sapphire--

i buried that all in the front yard--
in your palms when 
you weren't looking--

you sometimes till wonder 
why you feel heavier
than before you met me--

what will you tell them
happen to your wife?

the one with so many dresses
still waiting in
your closet like hot air
balloons--

the one who baked lemon bars
on sundays & went to church 

but only for you--

she was trying to dig
the holy from inside of herself
but she only found gem stones--

that's me of course--
cutting my hair on the dock--

rib cage housing crustaceans--

eyes shut-- pretending to
be asleep--

i shipwreck

& the scientists say

i have several more years left 
before salt & ocean drift 

evaporate the hull--

before then will you visit--

will you tell me if you remember 
the smell of our attic?

the jars of basil & time--
the still pocket watch--
mouth open-- 

we have the souls of whales

Let’s play hangman

 

drawn into the noose—

 

the letter ‘e’ did him in—we needed a vowel—

 

& the lady in front of us in line at the Goodwill said

did you hear there was another shooting

in Florida—a high school—49—oh no not 49 dead just shot—

 

another

 

the vowel you were looking for is ‘o’

 

‘o’ the shape a mouth makes when blowing

bubbles on the porch in april when we take

off our sweaters—leave them on the back of desk chairs—

 

9 dead—yes 9 dead now

 

& there is a letter to be guessed

 

& the letter is likely one of 26—some more weighty than others—

 

& the letter is so heavy that it hangs—

 

i’m thinking about that time in middle school when

we waited in the grass by the church—

 

where we sat excited by the threat of a bomb

& you were briefly in love with someone

whose hands was sweaty—

 

‘o’ like a bomb—like the doorknob to the church—

 

another

 

it was all so absurd—we passed fear &

moved on to laughter

 

we laughed—

 

mouths shaped like ‘o’

 

‘o’ the barrel of a gun—

the tongue in the lockdown drill—

be quiet—that’s the shadow—

 

guess a letter guess a letter

 

another

 

i want to buy my damn clothing

& get out of there—

 

& the prayers become ghosts—prying

themselves from the camera of my iphone—

 

hashtags in their jaws—

 

there was another shooting

 

& the barrel of the gun

guesses the letter ‘o’

 

finally—

 

with our arms dangling legless—

 

let’s play again

let’s play again

 

start with the vowlers—

 

it will be april then & there will

be less mouths to fill with bubbles

 

& the sweater didn’t stop the bullet—

 

why didn’t you guess?

 

another

 

another

 

the scaffolds draw a crowd—

 

we sit in the grass by the church—