Loud seagulls
Descend upon the city
Like awkward tourists
I brush Maroon Velvet hair
From her sweet eyes
And welcome sin, because I told the witch a lie
How much art must I create,
How much beauty must I gather
In a wicker basket
How many mewing kittens
How many chocolate eclairs to
Sanctify this existance
There is sun flitting through layers of canopy
Dead vines in large arcs, dirt packed
Tight with old glass, with orange needles and wild flowers.
It is the first day of Spring and the Mississippi river creeps on by
To the drumming of a wild mare’s trot
Serenaded by some angelic choir,
somewhere
dripping in gold and mercy
Somehow here is sadness
& the heavy soot of shame
This feels contagious
Here is some goodness
So much energy to be happy
The river, releases ships to navigate her curves
On Path
Somewhere there is ending
Somewhere she lets them fall into her great mouth and
Her fat tongue carries them gently to a quiet tombstone
With Lillies and dasies tossed here and there
For she does not ask
SHE TAKES
Holy selfishness
Sacred Masculinity
Yea, I would let her hold my wrists down and make me hers
I’d let her run rivers through my body
I’d ask for more
I’d kiss her till my mouth was bloody
I’d ask for more
I’d let her make me come
I’d ask for more
Tag: pagan
To Order Disintegration
Here is Mystery
We serve the Queen’s
Tea with equal parts
Order and Chaos
We hide in the birth canal
Snuggling into a pain
We know
Pale in her full moon bath,
Nude among the lotus
Each month she
Orders Disintegration
Each time emerging
A translation of
An ancient spell
We cook lamb and mint,
Strawberries and pour red wine
For her Hot Date
With Mystery
The court whispers, peeking
Through the door, “Will they
Finally make love?”
She wipes her lips
And leans to her, “Do you
Want to fuck?”
…And then Water came with an Attitude and a Diamond Ring
I wanted to, no, I needed to save them all. I was their god, and they depended on me. If they are hurt, it is in my name. I pray they never learn how resentful I am. But look how they sleep, pure and peaceful.
…And then water came, she was beautiful, she shook us up & tore everything down & hopped off to then next highway town with new golden earrings and a diamond ring. We never saw her again and things were never quite the same.
We all miss her smile.
I took a look around at all the babies and somehow they were all okay, tucked in tightly in bed. It’s almost as if they didn’t notice that water had come and gone at all. Maybe she hadn’t been as destructive as I thought.
God- how many years ago was that now?
Maybe she lulled them to sleep.
Maybe she’ll come back home.
Murder You, Anoint You Holy, and Call You Baby
Aware of the fear of the present
Moment that big cat stalks closer rustling
Sharp grasses. Somewhere between
Black gowns in my closet a rush against
Velvet and bleary eyed in bed I fumble
For that flashlight in the hot night & my sweaty
Fingers anxiously find the light.
There is a low thunder from Tiger’s throat.
& my trembling hands swoop a beam of light like a hawk in large arcs through the darkness
Tunnel vision. Rays and Squids could possibly float
In this dark expanse a feline predator lurks
Waits for me. Where might she be?
Cool sheets cling to me as I rise, toes first and spin, flashlight marking the walls.
Then
A parting in the leaves,
Expose
A pair of gleaming eyes
No, but it’s a mirror!
Oh, terror!
It is me!
Simply me
All of me
Ugly and sexy and soft, ready to murder to anoint you holy to call you baby
I wish I could look away
There is no cage
There is fear of the power within.
To Appraise Wonder: The Holy Mundane
I adore you quietly
You rest in slippers in my mind
There is no shaking of the
Walls of my heart
No prisoners, no hostages
You or
I cherish you purely
And yet I am hurt in the
Sweetest way comfort and care
Come along and take pain
Into swollen hands
& Heartbreak spends the night
With compassion and
I fall in love with wonder
At this grassy valley these
Soft creatures, again
And again that
Embrace the pain
Of heartbreak. The
Numb of solitude to have
A glimpse at a lover’s
Messy hair
Each morning to
Hum a body to
Collide with
Something Solid
Something
Human
I fall in love with the fragile pain of longing
This is not a story
I do not have to be okay
A happily ever after is not demanded by some
Celestial editor.
Censoring feelings and desires
Approving expressions of Pleasure
Rejecting the colors of Pain
I meet a tendency to
Chase wonder
Attribute healing
To grandness a possible
Exclusion not allowing the
Holy Mundane
To try her hand to whisper smaller truths
Looking for the drum circle
Listening for the bonfire who’s
Full moon is here? In the less
Exciting the Sacred Mundane
What does she have to say?
Maybe in Houston
In the Suburbs a
14 year old Blonde Girl may also
Look towards the moon she is
The Same moon
I might be dancing around
A fire in New Orleans, nude and
Kissed with emerald paint
In skirts in moss we sweat we
Circle hot air
Carries over to you
The Grasses under
Your Feet may be Manicured
Planted outside a Stucco House with
Broth colored walls. I
Couldn’t tell the difference between
The homes in your Existence yet
Maybe you could Maybe
The difference is all the matter
The Shades of Blonde
You choose to adorn your hair could
Make all the difference
Her picket fence
May look dead to me
Her mom’s SUV reflects
My moon crisply washed
Yet she is the same moon
I worship and maybe as
You gaze towards her
You will choose to live another day
Maybe you worship her in a way
I will Never understand
Maybe someone will find tiny spells
In Cracks in the garden wall
Maybe someone will find salvation
In a gardenia flower behind an Air Conditioner Unit
Those Mockingbirds are as revered as a roseated spoonbill
Those Grasses as meaningful as the haunted cypress
In fact it is I that limits wonder
I am not the appraiser of magic
There is wonder all around me
All the time.
You do not have to prove you are Alive
____
Fall 2019
Who brings Sunflowers to a Moonlit Mass?
Mary,
My beating Heart
It was never me who was broken
Magdalena you saw I was wounded but
I saw the wounds as who I
Was told it was part of my brain
Mary I was never sick
Mag I am not sick
Maggie such normalcy,
not drama, I
told them I loved the drama
dress in black
Adorn with creatures of the night
Wearing sunflowers does not
Kill the freak in me, this part
loves pale flowers that
Only bloom
Under full moons
I am the favorite nectar of bats
Weaving serpents to slumber in my braids
Mary my brokenness is not empty
We tell ourselves what we need to hear
We tell others what we really need to hear
We dance with werewolves at the moonlight mass
2019 (Spring or Summer)
I Need to Quit Regurgitating Goddesses
Last night something was emerging
From the belly from the depths
Fear was a stabbing pain
Between brows it was Time
Sweaty and retching
There was nothing I could do
Out emerged a sack a pod
Slick with green bile or algae
Hot from the deep shine like a
Clear water balloon
And then she took my breath away
& My eyes full of radiant gold
& She began to glow and shine
Fins wave rhythmically illuminating
Gold and Hot her atmosphere
Holds countless microscopic shrimp
Surround her in formation- orbit as stars
Satsuma scales cast shadows in the curves of
Her delicate marine body
She chooses to part the rich green leaves around her
Chooses to appear just as she is a scintillating hue
Her world lit in the confidence of simple existence
Her eyes never left mine through the
Dark internal waters and in her
Tiny perfect world from my
Belly dark you slithered up the
Tunnel of my throat I never could have stopped you
You are ever powerful, my little goddess
Her gaze both holds me in perfect comfort
& sees me in off putting clarity for
I am not used to being seen as I am
Oh what magic have I stumbled upon?
Oh what magic has been waiting to ascend from my darkness?
At last, in finality: the truth that
Despite all her majesty despite
Her endless manifestation of peace,
She needs help
I must fiercely protect her
Fall 2019
Black Moth
I dream in fear an Iridescent Black Moth has
Landed on my plate of satsumas but
Genny comes & with such heartbreaking compassion
Scoops him into her palm and brings him outside
Shushing “it’s gonna be okay lil’ guy.”
The little frames his wings may contain
Sleep dust or some sort of ordinary magic
Maybe Genny recognizes the Fae in him
By god, he surely recognizes the Fae in her yet
What message he may have or perhaps just
Fell off his trip to the gas station for
A pack of cigs and a pixie stick
For now they are the only breathing creatures that
Exist in all of space and time and here
They witness the other and the eternal
Absolute that none has felt understood before
The beauty was the amount of gentleness and
Total acceptance with no hesitation that Genny
Gave this creature.
The Magic was the trust that this creature had in her.
Fall 2019
Relapse into Fantasy
The New Story is
I am not human
I never was
No desire to eat or bathe or
Love with a body yet some
Creature of the stars
Of soft mosses Pain is
In the skin in the
Mouth it hurts
To breathe. Light too bright
To dull to fight
Call my name by candlelight,
How can’t you see?
Don’t you see I am not human?
I tried to tell him
I tried
there is nothing more to do.
Delusion is a pastime I can
Admit I like to alter reality to a
Place of whimsy if the
Conclusion is my lack of
Humanness, then I acquire a pardon,
Possess an excuse for all the
Strangeness I feel and why
I don’t enjoy having skin around me
There is fear at myself.
Thoughts seem to flit about and attack each other
Sometimes play I observe
Chaos, welcome
Relapse to fantasy to Letting
Go and writing myself into mythology maybe
I can make something maybe
I can make sense this is
Not mania this is salvation this is
Inevitability in a little
Cottage in mountains I
Surround moss I am gathered by fallen twigs
Watched by foxes and magical girls
Follow me around and cry
Crystals at my feet there are
A million moonbeams in your eyes
There are a million reasons to not
Want to die I have always been attracted to a
Man with that twinkle in the eye
Look towards me out of the corners of your face yet
You’ve no idea what you see
What you see is not what you want me to be
I will never be who you need me to be.
I equally am and equally am not a
Misplaced creature in a foreign land am and am not
A cast away deity shaking sleep from stardust hair
This land is not my own I am not of here this
Language discordant in my ears this
Spins too fast this fragile pain
There is no burrow deep enough
Take me back to slow water
Take me back to wind chimes
Take me back to bones
Take me back to the beating of the
Heart of humanity to sex
To electricity where
I could never be touched enough when
I cried out romance into cuts in my skin contains
Feels alive with
Girls I love with
Danger, with
Salvation. Love is repentance
Love is guilt
Love is hurt
Being otherworldly creates me a goddess I
Desire to be admired
From afar
Tell the world pretty stories yet the face
On the other side of the veil is
Just deep lipstick you can
See through my skin, what is on the inside?
There must be a doctor
Somewhere that can tell me what
I look like inside I tried
Oh god you can believe me I’ve tried
There is something yet within
She inhabits gilded halls
In a little globe in her palm
It is a secret
Inside I am a secret
It is nice that way
Emerge to pray and light incense
To be admired and back
Inside wherever the
World can be too much to
lounge amongst perfection to
Solitude in absolute Men walk from thousands of miles
Away blistered pilgrims in my holy name
Yet the story I really contain a young
Man who somehow
Knows he may not
Be human it does not matter at all
There is nothing we can do
He can see it behind my eyes he can see that
I am not ethereal at all at
2am
Binging on sweets
Greasy hair
Smeared makeup
Dissociated
I am not ethereal
In pain
Under you
At war with myself
To ask you or to not ask you
To stop or to fight
I am not ethereal at
2am
At my parent’s house
Snot on my chin
I am not ethereal changing a wet bloody pad
I am not a ghost I
Haunt old songs in my car
The only part of me that is close to human is the pain,
Possibly the pain
this could be human one day
Pain at blood red at gnawing stomachs
Pain at the throat at the vulva at
Claws in my eyes at
Coldness and pain when hit and
Passing out
I leave blind
I’d rather feel pain than be dead inside
He is pure violence he
Breaks through the lock he
Does not care at all he
Breaks right through my heart through
Ornaments of gold through
Winged cat eyes through
Fishnets he
Destroys my fiction
I thought I did create
My alien skin he
Is not fooled is
Not afraid of me
Oh how did I let this happen he
Tears down the veil he
Does not care at all
Oh I tried to let him know
I am not yet human
Yes I fucking tried to let him know yet
At my feet at the altar on top of
Blood he may die for my
Love does kill, the fleshy creature in me
Caught his eye
He tossed aside my storybook he
Tore apart the fairy tale
Set fire to woodland cottage
Melted down my crown
He cared enough to truly see
He fucking set me free
I fooled myself, why yes he did
And yet likewise, he fooled me.
I’d rather hold the pain than be dead inside
It fits nicely in a little globe Pretty
From outside but
I can make a cage luxurious
No one will take my pain I’ll
Spin stories I’ll seduce you Pain turns
You swooning when I paint it with gilded
Feathers when I sprinkle it with fairy dust when
I record it in a leather bound diary
This is all I have
This is all my own
You will never be able to read me
Even my expressions are in code
Even my kiss is a disguise
I have been asked the right questions before
The breadcrumbs have been followed
Fine,
I’ll admit that
Yet then I cannot maintain
Fresh coats of Lavender over the stain
I cannot protect the storybook
Cannot defend the Pain
This human skin
I tried to become an alien
I fought to become a Fae
I killed myself to become a Saint
For people to share stories
Around camp fires
A being of legend of mystery that
No one ever knew
Who lived in a beautiful cage
Who imprisoned herself in a caricature
Who was never quite sure who she even was
What she was.
Would rather live in stories
A beginning a middle and an end
Tied with a bow
I Hope You’re Staying Dry: Hurricane Party, Sex, Drugs, and Witchcraft
This past weekend’s
Hurricane Party
Skate gang is
Sola, Samuel, and Swamp Bunny
Wake on Alligator’s couch
Sweet voices from the shower
You have a soft side Sola,
My Best friend with her fiancé, Cheshire Cat.
I am glad he treats you well
You rise together early morning
Playful in the shower
When I’m with you we
Pass the best days of my life
We spin dizzy colors
Bleed together and
Sting my eyes
This is Not a Drill
I am in Love with Mr. Alligator
And he is your fiance’s best friend
It is July there is a Hurricane in the gulf
Soon we will feel the sky shaking
Hide in Uptown, New Orleans I know I am not
Safe here yes, I am better off by my parent’s up North
Yet here I am and can you guess why?
I long to sleep tonight in the quiet dip in the sofa
Where you rest your head when you come Home,
Alligator, I long to stay by our friends
Dysfunction and drugs and playing
The Game yes, I love you in plain sight
In the mid morning
Sola and I wander to Tree of Life to
Pray for Rain to Cleanse our Sins
We pose each other in hot pics
For Insta she plants palms in
Damp peat moss in decay she
Kicks her feet up in an arc
Handstand against a low branch
Yoga, muscles, and curves
Unapologetic #ThirstTraps
We suffocate as we heal as Tree of Life
Tosses Spanish Moss in my open diary
Throw me something Ma’am
I take the moss home with me, because
You gave yourself of your free will
Unto me, you placed yourself inside
My diary you demand to lounge
Deep in my unconscious and you
Surface in my dreams in
Sexual fantasies I enjoy
Thinking of Alligator when I am with
His Best Friends I am
Aroused by the idea
Of them feeling envious of our
Tense desire our burning eyes
Tree of Life commands us to
Weave Magic
Into the tapestry
Into the sky
Sola and I gather moss for spell work
For darker days
I ascend her
Straddle her solid beneath me
“Girl You’ve Got To Trust Her
Or this will never work okay?”
Palms on bark, focus on her branch
In my eyes of ancients past
I’ve gotta trust what is directly in front
There is no fear in this moment
“I can’t look down or surely I will fall.”
Succumb to flying to
Standing on tippy toes to
Steal a Kiss her sun kissed leaves
Leave her blushing you always
Leave me wanting more
But you’re not here, are you Mr. Alligator?
And so I climb her more.
Back home it is late, late
Samuel turns off the TV and
Hushes the boys to let me sleep
In the nook of your body’s heat
I still feel you here
You slept here weeks ago
When are you coming home?
The next night we discover an
Alien Planet
Rich folk’s grass
The good kind on the
Golf Course at Audobon Park
Carpet exposes we are miniatures
Ant specks crawling under a
Purple and orange sky observes
Ancient oaks pause
Here and there as a
Humble Hurricane passes by
He arrives in finality and marvels
Me and the Gang
Break Federal Curfew
Indulge in rebellion
Punk Rock jacket I created
To show you who’s boss
I am the #SwampThot
Sola takes a photo of me
Stretched seductively
Across the slick keep- out sign
We give Zero Fucks
Piss on the pampered lawn of
Old Money New Orleans
Generations of dirty Money
Lavishness fetishized from the
Blood and sweat of Slaves,
Walking home on St. Charles
A blacked out car skids by
Samuel says they “must be moving
A couple Kilos.” Since “now would
Be the perfect time.” Says a cop
Follows in disguise.
Back home: Samuel presents a
Fancy case his wide smile with a flourish says
“Swamp Bunny, You Need To Smell This Weed”
My face betrays my repulsion my
Lack of experience with his decadence
Unintentionally personal insult
He has lost the ability to relate that
I cannot be impressed I make a
Mental note to tell Alligator,
He will be in stitches over this one.
Morning and Sola, Samuel and I blade
Audoban park in full lucidity
Of daylight we are
The Coolest Kids you’ll ever see
Who wouldn’t kill to hang with us?
Rushing past Blaring
Nasty music Dressed to
Impress Styled to Terrify
Moves to Testify
Samuel says he feels like he’s flying
I say I feel alive
Afternoon and we encounter a Vigilante Weatherman
At The Fly on the Mississippi River, says
He prefers to be called an
Armature Storm Chaser
I could not resist asking about
His homemade wind sock
Broken Sexton from Party City after Halloween Sale
Red Hair and freckles, eyes squint
Points to the Eye of the Storm
In the distance
Draws us a diagram on a
Stained Chinese Takeout Menu
I dare not correct him, bite my tongue
Struggle to keep from laughing that
Everything he has said is wrong, wrong, wrong.
The sweetest moment the
Hard candy on my tongue
Was a 5 word text from my Alligator
“I hope you’re staying dry.”
Night falls: Cheshire cat shows me
Patient bubbles in molten
Butter teaching me to make
Edibles Sickly Golden
Marshmallow and 90s children’s cereal
Always Watching Everything and Everyone
He takes it all in, I wonder
Does he have a choice? I wonder
Can he rest at night?
Hurricane Barry 2019 I spent with
My Best Friend Sola, with Samuel and
Cheshire Cat, cuddled in my Crush’s bed
And here in my palm,
I take home a mason jar of
Hurricane Water I gathered in heavy mugs
On the brick by her potted garden
Sola adds Brandy to keep it fresh
Now colors honey sharp to save for
Witchcraft for dry days
One for me and one for you.
And a boy for me and a boy for you.
How could I want for more.
Lucid Dreams 