Thursday, February 12, 2009


A woman's heart lies still as a serpent in the sun,
eyes motionless and dark in the brilliance around.
She waits without hope or fear of dying knowing
the blended potion of her striking gift
is eternal metamorphosis.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Love, Untitled

You move against me in the dark
and I remember
slow dance floors urging
pulsing beats sliding through the veins
together in the red dim room
crowded by couples each alone as they move

And so, ten thousand nights from then,
I move to you.

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Baltimore cries at night -
keening cries of steel on steel,
clanking of chains and pulleys,
angry wailing injuries.

Baltimore aches for long pat ships
like a mother moaning for children gone home.
Crab shells in the gutters are fewer now.
Even the crabs gone home.