Make an anonymous post here... show me something. Have you any poetry? The scraps of a story? The fragments of writing? Or tell me something. Something about yourself, something you would like to tell me, something you would like to tell the world...? A secret, perhaps. Any secret words that you would be willing to place up here... that would be beautiful.

You may come by here any time you like, I'll always check back.

Keep my head above water take my hair
by fistful in teeth & fingernails greasy slick
with the candlewax of This Disease
has got me filthy in the cell again split the atom
& watch my bones melt.

Take me by the neck drag me from this river
that flows like the millpond sludge in my veins &
bring me my knife the one with no handle
take this shaken child from the water do not
let her drown in This Disease.

Ah, while you are not safe & I am not safe
& tonight we're really in the Millpond of Time
won't you take This Disease from the child's shoulders
like a yolk yellow dripping ooze
down the small of your back & scrape it off with
your curled fingernails? Won't you
keep This Disease in the bradycardia of
your being as there you stand
& you hold nothing but a fistful of my brittle hair.

- November 22 2009

& then I thought of locks
& then I thought of keys
& then I thought of Jane again
but you don't want to hear that.

I carved the eye of providence
into the wall beside my bed.
It became the notch in my bedpost
1 for the eye and 1 for you.
Notch. Notch.

Cat-scratches are sex
& providence is coming.
Providence is coming
& providence is here.
& Lord o Lord please keep my feet
keep my feet upon the ground.

(good morning dear)

one pill two pill green pill blue pill –
paint it white now why did he not call tonight?

(so you overdosed cuz i didnt call back?)

tastes like she's not been good this year
promise you'll do better promise santa you'll be good
tastes like – what was in that needle? o lord.
tastes like next time i'll just go ahead and –

(i cant be involved anymore)

what was it we called this pose
knees to chest bones on bones.
what do you mean you went to bed – ?
evening passed and night fell and the tongue missed the pill,
missed the pill – don't make me do this alone.

(please get better its just not right)

and i dreamed you only wanted to sing me to sleep.

(night.)

- October 9 2009

but the chemical sharps aren’t chemical sharps; they’re the knives of
famine stab our feet; our hands; we sit dogs sit
(we must look gray, my dear. then we will be beautiful.)
we sit dogs sit; leashes sliding between the curls of our ribs
sliding off our hips, the radio asks, why don’t you slide?
(& i cry into it, it takes me, it’s sticky, it’s gooy, what is it? is it sh – )
sliding, graying into the contours of our cheekbones.

but the shame isn’t chemical shame it’s too sharp for that; it’s
the shame of one poke then more, poke poke, so now let’s do this
for him, for him and him and him.
(shame makes our lips sticky, and sticky lips sink ships.)
sit; dogs sit. we sit. we sit, sinking ships into the contours of our cheekbones.

- October 2009

sweet like
a ship under the tongue
chalky into the veins
we’ve done this before
it’s all we do when
he can’t come
to take their place
it’s that little game again

- August 6 2009

you said
my little pastime
turned you on.

then later you asked
if bleed
could be a noun.

- Summer 2009