To Grant Forgiveness


If it’s in vain

If it’s to wrap myself up

In silky space robes and raise my fat little fists

If it’s pissing in bushes

Or watering sprigs stuffed in boxer briefs

If it’s lying between cacti

And dreaming of drinking the bubbles

Out of ancient fountains

If it’s to surrender to last kisses

To mature endings

To joints in skinny jeans//grape rolling paper & size 2’s

To air that smells like rot and

Scuffed sunshine and

Tar so fresh your handprint could




If it’s to guzzle ash and be sated by petrol

Is it true, Frost,

That nothing gold can stay?

Like the chug of faucet

Like the breaking of bread

Like the deconstruction

As presupposition of sand


Horseshoe crabs have antiquated and blue

Dinosaur sex

Next to adulterous kings and betrothed queens and

The quiet lap of ruthless crests

I watch them, sometimes

A sick voyeur, a twisted pervert

Sometimes bird shit smattered on windshields

Looks like horseshoe crabs

Stretched and teased and sophisticated

Spiny tails and jagged shells

Carved by the run of berry and seed

I won’t turn on my wipers yet, so

Enjoy your collisions and ephemerality

And I will play god

If it’s to be so observant–to watch and loathe–

Only occasionally merciful


Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here