January 25th, 2012


A poem I owe to Laurie Penny

A tangle of meat and poetry

The human heart is but a maze of meat
where muscle tangles in a gorgeous knot
Red blood flows through it, lush and burning hot.
We wander through its paths on halting feet

whenever love begins. We feel its throb
quicken beneath us, troubling us again.
It is the one time that we welcome pain
we've felt before, we know that it will rob

our mind of of dull staid prace, quicken each nerve
quiver us into art. We feel the reins
that love pulls hard, our arteries and veins
harsh in our mouth. We're forced to make a swerve

where we would not have gone. Heart's such a bitch
we know there's some new girl. We don't choose which.

(no subject)


Our face the house that line by line we built,
our skin the record of fierce days, of wine
whose red is in our cheeks. This scar the fine
we paid for passion; shadows of our guilt

under our eyes. Eyes that are startled bright
that we can still feel lust after such years,
valleys around them that were carved by tears
but sometimes joy. We look a perfect sight

when mirrors see us. When our suitors claim
we're beautiful. We see their peach-smooth cheek
their uncarved eyes and all resolve grows weak.
We'll let them tell us lies. We know this game

These are the half-meant lies that we once told
when young come back to haunt us now we're old