vix0r

And now I’m that little lame balloonman, all knobbled feet and goat face. I twist balloon animals from discarded condoms to make a Durex poodle and a Trojan horse. I offer them freely, hoping for nothing more than a smile to steal, but no one smiles anymore. I steel at autumn, the winter-come-lately, and lounge stiff against a light-and-ice pole. I see him there, Ginsberg, shivering man of rags, and he leers the old man at the chessboard, the one playing with no partner, the one tasting the king and swallowing a pawn. Who is waiting for whom, I wonder? They both look hungry. I startle as the Great Figure rolls a quiet, ruby

Cook ’em ’fore they’re fully grown— Sucklin’ pigs and tender meats— ’Til they’re fallin’ off the bone. Curst, that wicked, evil crone, Who hexed my foods, breads to beets. Cook ’em, for they’re fully grown; Stare as each one shifts to stone. Roast beef ashes and depletes, ’Til they’re fallen off the bone. Left to live on sweets alone— Cookied men, my fav’rite treats. (Cook ’em ’fore they’re fully grown.) Years find me glycemic prone, Boilin’ sores from toes to teats, ’Til they’re fallin’ off the bone. Slowly, my true fi

to(o ur e yes me et) get her ness

I imagine your touch, a tender skin only barely hiding cold, jagged glass. I exult in your caress, though you shiver and draw away. I hearandtasteandsmell the saccharine on your voice, the kind reserved for confection and antifreeze, as you apologize yourself away from me. We seek in sames and opposites, like Orion chasing Scorpio chasing Orion. You fear me your poison, but I want you to sting me, to drain that toxin and empty yourself. Fill me to the eyes with it, that you might again become Pisces, become Virgo, become Gemini. So— collapse this world between us; we’ll compact it, crush it into nothing, n

HaikuWriMo 2007 October First an autumn shower— the gentle patter of old footsteps October Second thick cloud blankets roll through my window— groggy morning October Third my bleary eyes greeted by the morning sun— a deer in headlight October Fourth Ms. Housecat prowls my grassy back yard— her tiny jungle October Fifth falling all around summer's going-away bash— confetti leaves October Sixth a constellation— playing connect-the-dots with the sky's freckles October Seventh close the curtains and pretend to be gone— Winter's coming October Eighth unhappy sky, don't spit in my ey

Young Soseki stood in the quiet courtyard, perched atop a short pole. His bare feet made subtle shifts against the wood as he maintained his balance. With only a plain-looking jinbei on and his arms slightly outstretched for balance, he looked like a scarecrow that had lost its field. The setting sun's last rays were beginning to evaporate, and the sweeping calm of dusk was all around. The sound of slow, trickling water was interrupted by a sudden tonk as the shishi odoshi pivoted and spilled its collected water, but Soseki was unaware. Despite outward appearances, the boy was actually meditating. For most, meditation was something done whil

Charity strode confidently down the hallway.  Her short heels clicked quietly off the floor, filling the Pentagon corridor with a soft rhythm.  She was pretty and powerful-looking, her tidy brown hair tied securely into a bun, her sharp glasses framing her alert eyes. Although she had been a somewhat outcast and mousy girl in school, she had grown into a professional and attractive woman.  As men and women passed her in the hallway, some slowed, offering, “Afternoon, Ms. Hale!” or “How are you, Ms. Director?”  She smiled and greeted those who greeted her, but left no opportunity for small talk as she continued walking down