I have decided that my main problem is lack of touch. Sliding my legs under my blankets makes me shiver. I feel phantom hands on my waist constantly. My neck bows on its own and craves a hand to force it.

Please someone bring me their fingers. Graze me in a crowd. Push me, hit me, kick me--just as long as we touch. At this point I am so starved that any contact would be worth it.

We are not meant to be.

Ships and their victories stay above the water, while if all goes well the pearl stays below. If the pearl and the ship ever meet, it is a victory for the ship and a travesty for the pearl. The ship ravages the pearl; the ship tears it from its home. The ship destroys the pearl. I am the ocean, I am full of shit and my blood is water. I do not believe in loyalty. Ships are to the moon as pearls are to the ocean; ships gather pearls like the moon gathers the tide and upon the whim of both the ship and the moon, the pearl and the water move. If I am the ocean, then you are the moon and I’m constantly moved by the phases of you.

You should have known better than to get involved with a poet or a pearl, because you are going to have to break my heart, which pumps water, and after that the ocean will always taste like me. When my heart breaks I taste the sea. Furthermore most writers are full of shit. When you read this you’re going to think I’m insane (the moon gathers the tide), which is true (and upon the whim of the ship), but mostly I cannot handle the thought of not being with you without having played some small part in it (the pearl moves).

Able (Abel revisited)

Two sons of Eve,
men, with large
hands and blood
like wine, sons
of God, favored
or sinful, martyr
or scamp, sit at
the start of the
world together.
One watches the
other with envy,
knowing that all
his tithes will be
rejected, while
gifts of meat are
received graciously.
Cain is unabel.
Cain resents Able.
Righteous, angry,
Cain kills all ability.
“Boys,” God says,
“if your mother
were here, she’d
be so ashamed.”

Ghazal Redux

We adore fresh words in our mouths,
but news is only new until you know it.

Take, for example, your favorite joke.
Recited until you know it,

it changes over time. When you offer
to tell it, your friends groan. They know it.

Give it time. There are words you’ve never
said, a theme sung only by gods who know it.

It’s said they hear us try to speak,
mimicking their song until we know it

by heart. Our father, it starts, and the spirits
groan. We translate so poorly; reap, sow it.

But I do the things I do inspired; you know it.
I crave you; soon your ears will know it.

Rapacious--aggressively greedy or grasping,
predatory, desperate like my arms for the
curve of your waist, my breasts for the skin
of your back; this greed could be quiet, like
when I slowly pulled myself out of bed so
as not to wake you, and then selfishly kissed
your face and asked you to ask me to stay,
or loud, as when I pulled you onto my lap
and begged you to have me. I greeded you,
or needed you or kneaded you, two cool cats
in heat. Greeded--"Hello, you're mine, stay,"
or maybe something like waking you up
with a kiss. Rapacious, or to be insane
with desire, violent with hunger; your
skin—your breasts--press. Two cats in heat,
who touch, who don't. My stomach grumbles.
I define glut and make a list of what I want to own:
The sun as it glances over your hair. The way
you steal the covers. The ache in my joints from
sleeping strange. More, your lips around my name.
My mouth is raw from saying yours; I kept it.
There is no denying it; o, greed! I am starving.

American Parenthesis: That which we house in bottles would in any other case get thee just as drunk.

He never needed god
because (and who
is god in any case)
he was capable of
great love (and true love
in any case)
without outside assistance
(he never called in any case).
He consumed his
lovers, as though they were
small plastic (or for
consumption, in any case).
He said, "Get thee
to a sweatshop."
His palms felt fat
and hot but who could care?
(You would not in any case.)
His night's fast broke--
his anger broke--
his fever did not break.
(The drugs he took were wrong,
in any case). He said, "Get thee
to a crackhouse." A name, he felt,
was a sort of resignation
(wherefore art thou in any case)
after saying it the first time;
unless signed, it was not
something you could touch,
like god who he did (and who
is god in any case) not need,
and so he never called anyone
(god or you in any case)
by resignation or by name.
A natural grin (teeth in any case)
perched not upon his face.
A natural fever crept hot around this place.
(He perched and crept, in any case.)
He said, "Get thee
to a nunnery." ("Go,"
he did not say but howled.
"Go," he said in any case.)

Okay, then I will buy you this book.
It's a strong book, maybe, or the
cheapest one they had. Who knows
why I chose this one over another?
(I do: the cover reminded me of your skin,
the pages reminded me of your hair,
the poems reminded me of your cunt.)

I do the things I do inspired; you know it.
I love you; soon, your ears will know it.

We adore fresh words in our mouths,
but news is only new until you know it.

Pronomial: as by specifying a person, place,
or thing, so that even in words you might know it.

The artless are jealous of your blue skies,
of the heart and eyes that let you know it.

I know the wind and know the cold. And
I know you and how you're bold; I know it.

Know me from Adam? In my loins, for one,
there is an ache: Thirst. I'm sure you know it.

Drop like flies: there is a collective strength
in our swatters, and they must all know it.

(So, to land a blow, she said, "I give
myself to you; it seems you never know it.")

"Untitled," Muriel Castanis, 1990. Cloth, epoxy.

There is wool over my eyes,
or linen,
or papier-mâché

And though it does not block
the light, I
leave it where it lays.

I am taken outside the limit
of my arms,
of my epoxy skin.

There are no stains, no blemishes
to suggest
imperfection.

As though I had bathed in buttermilk,
poured it over
my head and closed my eyes.

(This was when I still could see,
when I blocked out
sun and water on my own.)

I am flying, one hand outstretched,
the other
laid flat against my side,

as though I were making my way
through water,
through clouds, through deficiency

and deformity, through every freckle I could
have developed.
Not carved in marble--draped over air.

What they don't tell you about me,
about us,
is that our condition is common.

This ache in my back from holding still
is womanly.
The strength in my arm, held out

eternally, is a feminine strength.
The cloth sealed
across my eyes is a maidenly wound.

Jesus, you miss the way a good Virginia strawberry tastes, red and ripe and about ready to burst. This is how you eat a good Virginia strawberry: First, you pick it yourself. This is essential. It has to be exactly the right strawberry, and you'll know because maybe its seeds won't quite cover its flesh. (And boy, does a good Virginia strawberry have just the right amount of flesh.) The right strawberry is blushing and hot in the sun, but since you're hot too, it'll almost feel cool against your lips. Second, put it right up against your mouth. This is the best part; try not to use too much tooth. Pull the meat onto your tongue. When was the last time fruit tasted like this? Groan, if you need to, but don’t let anything drop from your lips. The juice will run down your chin and collect in the hollow of your throat, but you’ll purse your lips against the meat and try to drink it all. (A good Virginia strawberry is juicy first, and sweet second.) You'll want to mouth against it like you've starved for years, flicking your tongue against it like you're speaking Spanish; strawberries are perfectly contoured for our mouths, as though the earth knew that we would want to eat them. (If you eat enough, you'll begin to believe that good Virginia strawberries were what mouths were made for.) Third, throw the stem to the ground and mourn that the moment is over. Lick your fingers in desperation. You will want to seek another strawberry, but, deep in your belly, you'll feel your first and crave it more than anything. It is only in this moment that you'll truly understand what it is to taste.