April Tanka Collection30I wear a pendantof a dragonflyentombedin amber-will you remember me?29grief besets a familyyetthrough his mask,my teacher calls mewarrior28steamingcups of green teasoothethe passionsas we study27when he's away,I'm a june bugbangingagainst a screenon a summer's night26shooting star-breathless,we meetin the gardenof your poet's heart25my rain comes downcomes down hard-he laughsand yieldsto the abundance24this night,as still as I've knownbut for one birdwho trills: "come to mewill you? will you?"23open fanof tangled fernhidesthe smile and flushof my foolishness22tiny energies-movementswithin my dreams,or are theyyour fingertips21resonating in thewarmth ofa late afternoon-the earthy tasteof his grappa20I contemplate himlyingin needful repose-a nebula seenedge on19webegat the moon,once birdsrevealed the skyto us18I lean againstthe lodge polestrengthof his body,that would plant babies17delve your fingersdeep,a
Strange FleshCarry me so my feet won'ttouch the floor,taste me when we arrive,breathe your life into mewhile entering thewound of your obsession,it consumes where I bleed;deny me your veiland salvage your religion--sin upon sin wades in spumeeach time you emerge,to offer me its strange flesh.
Gentle CannibalWithout a breeze to soothe my body,or salvage a mindfrom the dripping tide of cicadas,the midnight of summer begins tolift its mantle from where you crouch,and comes to honor me.My gentle cannibal,with eyes of hemorrhaging iris,the jaundice of your nakedness,translucent from the moon ringsghosting overhead,your lips pulled as if in pain.The fever of your touch tracesevery rung of dappled trellisfrom the faux shadings of a lunar day.Give me my sweet plunder of ripe figsas you bend me like a bow that will snap,or have you already bitten me to the bone.