zinc words & images

  • Making the Night

    Stringed night Moonbeam notes Play along Crowns and crests. Billowing darkness, So rich I could grasp And fold the warm night Toward my body, having It for myself. Lyric leaves Whisper, sowing my mind With drowsy songs That open my Skin to every breeze. Forest floor, papered, Over time gathers The lunar composition That streams…

  • This, Partly

    Metallic sweat pressed your body and personified the heat, giving it the character of desire. Pluck a vein, an artery, one of the nerves that runs from deep inside my neck and down my leg and ricochet like a tuning fork on a steel beam. We’re marked with the pumping blood. My veins let me…

  • April 23

    Long drives until you called to me “Look up at the green geometry of the roadside.” Beside us was the impetuous landing, the cardinal sin of history, mounded with earth. Zephyrs were slower, so my hair billowed, expanding weightless, weaving in and out like the dusky trails of a 4th of July sky. Directional messages…

  • April 23 #2

    On repeat I hear your favorite song, so much harmony and the sad energy of contemporary men who have dogs but no purpose. It is elliptical or epic, beginning with the story at the end. Flourishes and backbeats, breaking the audience’s necks as if their heads were brushed by the hand of an unseen uncle.…

  • April 20

    Your skin spoke to me as a longitudinal study of music, theater, art, politics, strummed against my body and the beat of a fan overhead moving particles of the temperate flow. Cold dampened my toes and fingers until I could not retain my kindled words. The prickles of a ghost were partnered with your eyes…

  • Beauty in Song

    Working this way has been challenging to say the least. Poetry is, for me, something that is organic first, edited second. Developing something original everyday based on my experiences and memories and then refining it into something I am satisfied with is pushing my outside creative edges in a positive way, though. That being said,…

  • April 14

    Every song contains you and revives you Lazarus of my mind. Amber-veiled eyes closed suddenly from the light flashing off cars through your window. Closed, too, for the rosewood body. Blind and rocking in your mother’s lap. Every wrinkle folding and moving your face. Sad child of star and clover, following light without me. Between…

  • April 12

    No one can write like you the words spill out my polished heart renewed. Gleaming and cracked you gave to take. It was sound sunk into my flesh made my soul bleed made hope manifest. Who saw when you practiced The lined fingers The bitten pencil? Teresa and Jeff, bodies aflame with crest and trough,…