GIFTWRAP
When you come to me
in our room where every line
wavers
I am gift-wrapped in
black latex to be stripped
the taunt of your breasts your
fingers spread to my mouth I
shiver
because this is not art
but our nature and
nature has no symmetry
· from Gina Osterloh’s “Pressing Against Looking, Fixed”
WHAT REMAINS
this is not Eden or
another youth-burning night
naked by the lake tangled into
a first name under the trees before
he cums and talks about how
the stars above are impossible
are dead lights fading memorials
these are our bodies these are
what is left to swing from liana vines
bare of myths and the sweetness
of mistakes
lingering
· from Ernst Ludwig Kirchner’s “Landscape at Fehmarn with Nudes”
TIKI
I bought an angry god
the size of my hand
From his bookshelf throne he
begs for sacrifices while
the snow drifts wave
When the furnace roars
he flashes his teeth promises
volcanoes Tsunamis to drown
mariners navies
Continents
Another zombie and
The sleet is white sand
each window an island chain
and Tahiti exists even if
I will never see it
My god is tired-eyed
and so am I these long
winters without Lava alone
with plastic gods and postcard
hula girls
drifting like flotsam
bound for shore
