-
- Brigid
- I drank milk from
your skin with eyes
open in open
prayer to your marbled
ribs the tips of your
ears where tongues
tasted out
perimeters of what
was to know the prayer
of every flank blessed thing
the circumference of a bell
- 4x6"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
- Giclee prints available in my Etsy store
-
- St. Lapin
- Is this how we are supposed to feel?
As alone as we as barbwire
as Castrato sing song? Long hears.
Long looking for a mirror in a white
wall. Days. Just sun and rolling
over into nowhere. Could there be
enough glue in April to stick together
us in a hole from bb wounds?
And the coyotes yelp. Can we hide?
The squealed gunk congeals to form a choir.
An egg sinks when your fever rises again.
- 4x6"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
- Sold
- Giclee prints available in my Etsy store
-
- Saint Blixatomy
- Beneath your yellow fat sack
Let the cool earth breathe
A Kibble Prayer. Your claws
Scrape a day across our arms.
Be near us in a sick expanse.
Be fever. Beside us, be a fulsome
Orange light of hazard. And Go.
Blixatomy, occupy us as a shadow.
Let us be hungry, the Holy
Machine of digestion purr.
- 4x6"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2008
-
- Saint Mark’s Own-What-He-Owns
- My over-the-head concussion
My christ-muscle cabinet
My only-jab-hand and night-nurse
My crescent-nostril-Luke up-in-the sky
My come-apart blood-limes eye
My one-ounce-bone stirrups where saddle-sores
My minus-two minus-three minus-one mouse-in-shoes go-home
My hiccup-farmer some-trout-change
My long-flame-kidney trailer-comet bring-me-home-umbilicus-'cane
My linen-in-lungs falls-apart skirt
My over-the-skull moose-fracture-pattern
My under-the-armor hair-tournament-troops
My bite-the-head-off-ant-queens Man-Man-Man
My once-and-future NICE-BULLET -ta-da-ta-da
- 4x6"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
- Sold
-
- Saint Mard
- Mard you are the saint of 2:54 p.m.
on any Tuesday
Wednesday or Thursday. We feel good in leaves.
In being left behind to bear other
centuries. In the middle of my arm
there is a window where I can
see you ingesting your biosphere. There is no
pollution. No other self but right now.
The mediocrity of employment delivers its
packages outside the blinds.
I believed you when you said,
"Nothing done is nothing done."
- 6x4"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
-
- Denis is heedless instead of headless
- still a worm
had a song
the hum was
flies was
a hundred forms
appropriated
to buzz
to a head verily
the light voice seeing everything
where going is
was going where
and yet the body wants
for its word
- 4x6"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
- Sold
-
- Saint Symbiosis
- Your breath on my neck
was sun where I was
when I was with you, dark form.
Where you called, history fit
to your respiratory shape. Symbiotic.
All unnamable bacteria safely congealed
in your mouth. My shadow leaned further
and further into the camouflaging air
- 4x6"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
-
- Hippolytus
- Q. Which one are you?
Q. the p in the lame?
Q. the m in the apple?
Q. the finger curling over the stem?
Q. you in your skin or you without?
A. let me snort at your holes
whistle a nostril two stream song
that we might there mingle like purple.
A. like the question and the answered.
A. blood so king bone so road.
A. three stirrups makes sweat and a mane
the gallop to hold the saddle.
A. everywhere.
- 4x6"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
- Giclee prints available in my Etsy store
-
- Saint Goosipher
- Fly to land amongst our buildings. Give us
the cacophony in your mayo beard. It's lunch and Jesus,
an algae sandwich again. Enough, yankee doodle dandy.
Your green guano beneath our fingernails,
let us be your tundra. Your eggs in our chest.
We can cheat meat and be a wilderness together. Vamose us
and cover forever the tunics with your blizzard mutter.
- 4x6"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
- Sold
-
- Come Saint Damien
- set upon by doves and arrows shot
from a dear mouth as yours
embroidered yellow on a tablecloth
with chicken bone and dud
hand-grenade teeth and an apple
gnawed to talk through
we'll wrench peace
from the lion's maw
supper with us, Damien, we'll boil our
brains too soft for warfare
we'll march a stenched beat
into a newly spoke land
- 6x4"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2008
-
- Joe
- There were eggs glued in mucous
to the underside of gold leaves.
You read us and we grew to a bursting
in a land of plenty. Our yolks yoked to you.
Our sweat crusted lips. Our thirst
to please you. A hunger to please you.
A knife for America to be us
in a golden beehive.
Behave the surgeon's hand -
the light of the blade to cut us, the salted angels,
from a burning tree.
Believe escape is the wind and a twig dipped in your eye.
- 4x6"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
-
- Instead of pennies for your eyes I have hamburger
- in Paris we could see the stars from the courtyard
in that circumference of darkness we
made you a constellation who said
who up there who up there
now born in a white dwarf spin around
please, who said, spin around in the sky
we said
it was a mouse we made
we said
it was a mouse we made
big as a cow for you
for you a cow
how now
how about that!
- 4x6"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
- Sold
-
- Steve
- I got a headache so carcass me
there is a couch in the cave
where the skulls are staved
aspirin rattles where no brains
pray hawks' prey rasp
of pig trotters on pans
and horse leather Steve please off me
borrow my wheelbarrow
with me in it cover me with gravel
and rubble my eyelids that blue
grass might grow from my peat heat
and soiled soil
- 4x6"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
-
- SX
- Were there letters missing from your name
in the MS? SX, I tell you, there was
a thought hole. I heard the night breathing
in the strobe of anti-aircraft lights
and the silence of sleeping houses.
There was a crow in your lip on Sunday. The claws
hooked us together with mute wires of delivery.
SX, decapitate us. Produce from us15 SX's!
Faster the crass birds. The wings. These corpse packages.
- 6x4"
- oil pastel and colored pencil on paper
- 2007
I