And though the path we walk be rocky,
With catching roots and boulders there,
So will such effort our clasp tighten,
To easier such hardship bear,
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Genre: Poetry
The Fox and the American Chickens
Houdini himself couldn’t hack
half the outfits he went through.
He backed up his derrière, set his tail ablaze,
one of hundreds of circus coups.
Gravity
I think of your mouth as an instrument of craving,
but instrument implies action, action implies choice.
Self-trolling
Often I tell people I’m 24. Not because I want to be still
but I keep slipping out of seasons. I’ve found a way to not
feel my feelings and it involves a surprising amount of bile.
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Ours
Oh as we waltz in the eye of the hurricane,
and shuffle with the storm, slaughtered,a
Oh as the prodding rivers of lust
dance in our veins, pulling us
where we so want to go:
into the bed of yes and no.
At the Izmailovo Flea Market
Moscow, September 2000
A chained bear dancing on its two feet
for rubles and corn welcomes us. Dolled-up
food chains on shelves: Stalin is pregnant
with Lenin is pregnant with Rasputin
is pregnant with Nicholas II is pregnant
with a kopek-eyed Anastasia. My mother counts
shiny rubles, eye-patched in blue beef
smoke, and I am miraculously pregnant