3 Poems


The requiem of my dreams can never be
           for how can I relinquish images of you and me in eternal effigy?
Our hearts and minds the fruit of the same tree.

We can fight over moving eyes or money not to be,
           and yet,
           I can not think of a moment that I do not want thee.

On some of my days, I am a flower,
           that creates nectar only because you are there to drink it.
           how lucky I am to feel your sweet lips as you devour me.

On other days, I am a dreamer
           who can not find her dreams.

My dreams are sometimes underneath
           mounds of earth or broken glass
I lunge with groping hands
           but can not always touch them.

My dreams are sometimes in my belly
           soft, blue and fleshy
I probe with wanting eyes
           but can not always see them.

My mind knows where they are,
          and takes me to your sleeping bed
          where I feel them when you breathe.


You read me your words
           those swelling inside you

Accumulated words
          For 6 months

Out they come
           spewing your sorrow

Red sorrow
Blue sorrow
And black
           like tar on my body

If I stay perfectly still
Perhaps nothing
           will stick

If I say nothing
           perhaps you wonít notice
How the muscles in my body
           in my heart
Have constricted
           I canít breathe

Perhaps you wonít notice
That Iíve noticed
           your futureless face

Maybe youíll think itís alright.


Is art like a garden?
Planted by a woman
Watered by her
Yielding fruit for only her?
Is art like a mirror?
          How many lines are in your face?
          How many mistakes can you trace?
          What desires do you embrace?
Is art for the world?
Look how wonderful I am
Try to figure me out if you can
Neanderthal man
Thousands of years past
No computers
No language
You tell me whatís true
Paintings of people and hunting
On your caveís dark walls
Why have you put them there?