clipping and clopping
the heels of the ladies walk
through hallways and dreams


Opal and Cyan

lo, Opal met Cyan atop the hill
which emerald in hue so softly lay
under a sky azure and flecked with cloud
whose bone and iv’ry bodies dim the day

Opal said to Cyan, “See you that sky?
It looks as deep and bright as do your eyes.”
Cyan said, “Opal, look you in that pond
and see reflections great as yonder skies.”


I hadn’t seen the girl in years
she had lost a lot of weight since then, and her virginity as well
told me she lost it to a man she met in Mexico
her virginity, I mean
the weight she lost on her own when she gave up meat
and took up yoga
she looked good, really good
after our second date she broke her ankle and I bought her a reaching stick
it cost me thirty-five dollars
looking back, it was too much
on our third date we watched a movie and laughed
her big eyes were blue, naive and beautiful
she glowed when she smiled and had great legs
even in that huge plaster cast
on our fourth date she tried to sell me Amway
I didn’t see her again
these things happen, I guess

faces, voices, touches, memories

sometimes I wonder what ever became of them

the black girl that came from France
who had the skinniest ankles I’d ever seen
the brunette with the husky voice who fucked me in my van
she had a tattoo on her back of a butterfly and she wrote me a poem
the almost-virgin with the most perfectly tiny nipples
who screamed like my cock was a knife inside her
the one who bore my child
the one who used me as a way out of hell

the one who took my virginity in my parents’ bed on new year’s eve
I remember her in flashes of memory now
the way her perfume stung my lips when I kissed her neck
the way she said “no” while she told me not to stop
I remember the way she took me by the hand
or maybe I took her
and before I even knew my shirt was off
my pants were too

I think of it sometimes and wonder
whatever became of them all
the girl with the rad blue jeans that I loved in grade school
the one I asked to graduation dance and then accidentally stood up
they came into my life, all of them, without motive, agenda or reason
they left without goodbye
all I have are the memories
just shadows of dreams
just echoes on the breeze

angels of the night

oh, sweet angels of the night
beautiful, floating goddesses
granting my every wish
my every aching desire

she has seen me desperate
drunk and dreary, brain dead and done
she, the long limbed nymph with
the greatest ass in existence

and the other, the pint-sized pretty eye
with her hair tied back
as tight as her body

they’ve read my bill to me at night’s end
because my eyes had left my head
they went walking the streets to find other heads

every eve these angels greet me
holding no memory against me
then send me home again
to sleep a heavy, dreamless slumber
to lick my wounds and forget my shame

temptation sucker-punch

it was easy before
to ignore, to forget
the shape was easy to neglect
desire found purchase only in memory
now that shape was changed
and her figure is thin and hard
my eyes now linger
my thoughts draw
into new fantasies of lust
covetous, predatory, empty of feeling
exploding with passion
joys of hollow domination
over a young body
grateful and eager
wet and welcoming
and always quivering for more
give me the strength