I toss my hair at
spread my arms to
the day.

I want to butterfly
from one moment
to the next
unfurl my proboscis
drink deep

have you
see through
the Ezekiel lenses
of my wings

you gasp
at my arrogance
in flinging
all those colours
(shimmer, shammer, hold me)
back in Sun's face.

from the "very long titles, some even longer than the poems" series -

Craig Takes Me To a Topless Bar and While I Am Appalled, Being the Good Girl That I Am, I Promise Him That I Can Make Anything Beautiful If I Want To. I Can Take An Ugly Experience and Turn It Into Poetry

He took me
to a breast garden
his eyes, twin butterflies
flitted from flower to flower.








Chronos Is Coming

Take down the mirrors.
every one
from their officious clairvoyant

Lower my chemise length skirts
like blinds.
Let them brush the ground
sway when I walk
need to be lifted
to climb the stairs.

Empty out all the bottles
atomizers, flasks.
Let each smell be its own
no more spells to cast.

Make a fire
of the many books
whose bindings chant of glamour.
See their pages of promises
flame sans fruition
as their hold
goes up in smoke.

Let Chronos know
his coming is most


My Daughter Shows Me A Real Live Butterfly Cocoon That They Are Observing In Her Classroom And It's Like Being In New York City

You know how NYC looks just like it does
in all the movies
when you're really there?

Well that Technicolor cocoon green in photos
looks just like the jade that shellacs
encapsulated inspiration.

And You Know How Inspiration Is A Word That Can Be So Cliché
Especially When Paired With Butterflies?

In my daughter's classroom, inspiration is a word with all the mystery and selfspun beauty of a worm that makes itself wings                    from that which it carries within.


From the book