2010s · Conversations with Gravel · Poetry · The Unnamed Algorithm

Pulp-Plastered

I’ve changed my mind
I want the blood bath
the tar-stained fingernails
the gut-black stairwell

I’ve grown too good at defending
It’s too quiet and forgetting
I want to pull out eyelashes
lick the spiny hairs

I’ve already been smattered
pulp-plastered, rib-caged
I learned to breathe in smoke
find oxygen hung on particles

I want to sink my teeth in
crack the porcelain
kiss the blood from the edge
of his full dark mouth

First published in Camel Saloon.

2015 · Publications

International Women’s Day Issue of Camel Saloon

womens rights are human rights 2 Today is International Women’s Day and The Camel Saloon is celebrating with a special issue full of women poets. My poem, “Pulp-Plastered“, is one of many many poems by women, including my friend Robin Dawn Hudechek’s poem, “A Moth’s Cage” and Kelsey Bryan-Zwick’s “The Light That Shines Through”. Spend some time wandering around the Saloon. Enjoy your day, brought to you by all the women in the world. theeyeoftheneedle7.blogspot.com

2010s · All the Tiny Anchors · Poetry · Unanchored

I Buried You

I buried you
When you left
It was supposed to be for good
I dug your grave
I mourned you for two years
Your death was crushing
But I had your funeral
I said my goodbyes
And I moved on
Fourteen years passed
Scars healed
Memories faded
It was final
Or so I thought until the mail came
Your name on the envelope
It gripped my breath
To see your grave broken
You were shiny at my door
All flesh and bone
Not decayed
You watered the dust
And grew
Flowers of apologies and regret
Dead hopes, dead dreams
All singing sun bright
Who wouldn’t be sprung
Who wouldn’t feel
Miraculous intervention
And long for faith
In redemption
In divinity
I buried you
I dug your grave
You were never supposed
To rise again
You were never supposed
To be here
At my door

2-5-12
Originally published at The Camel Saloon, 9-19-13