oil slick

Mom says I've always had purple hair

First Storm

Studious Bunny

Side hang

a whisper of a vampire

Scene 1- your house, summer, hot air, thick
we’re watching animation at your house. i remember thinking i love the vampire of havana! i start telling you about this new series of books i've been reading
you’ve got to meet Otto the vampire...he’s fabulous.
you tell me you’re familiar with the stories. when you were in puerto rico you were dating this really "hot woman, yeah?" and you two used to just lie about on the beach, under wide bright skies at night just talking about vampires.

Scene 2- the street where I grew up, winter, cold feet, wet snow
we are whispering.
i have the realization that i'm watching myself.
i can't make out the whispers. But when my whisper self feels anxious, so do i. suddenly all of me is crying.
"do you want to get back together, gently?"
(sniffs) yes and no, I say. i definitely want to but i don't want you jumping back in to a relationship before youre ready just because it's what i want.-- all the while i'm thinking, now's not the time to say... by the way, I’ve taken up serial killing as a hobby. One step at a time.
you whisper in my ear " i need more time"
you push the hair back from my face just as you lean over and start nibbling on the soft parts of my ear, ending with a light bite.
One blink you’re next to me. The next you are down the street, turning the corner.

"i think," i whisper to my whisper self, "that was a vampire."

Sonnet to the Frailty of Virtue

corruption

My power to corrupt
Perhaps deserves attention
Case in point: Adult male

Complained
I drained

Him of his
Life, his body,
And his soul
I was heretofore
most unaware
Of this ability
To control

But you see,
It's not me

I sense he is more frail
Than he first dared to mention
For it seems all too easy to disrupt

Unravel and undo
This ultimate paragon of masculinity and virtue

hole in my head

the hole is mostly filled
the voices still sneak in though
there's no real epoxy
sealing all the gaps
so i still hear the conflict
quiet grumblings from my gums
sending covert messages
coded secrets to my brain
i can tune them out
but not the pain
it's ok though
there's some gold
that can take care of all this for me
hold on, they said,
a few more days
it'll all be over
for them
not me
i stand to come out on top
this time

Anti-climax (part 1)

Measures of Time

measures of time

i had taken a nap and awoke with a start, desperate to remember the phrase:
it was just the mice amount of time.
when i first heard it, i was sure it was just a product of a sparking brain, overstimulated by trite telenovelas and a rapidly spanish-speaking family.
but there it was again!--- ah yes, that's just the mice amount.
apparently There (wherever there is), They(and i'm not sure who they is, either-- sorry) say many amorphous concepts like goodness, rightness and sufficiency are measured against fixed, albeit unknown to most, quantities of rodents.
i'd yet to overhear the animalistic touchstone of badness, wrong and lack, but i suspect it had something to do with snakes.

a perfect meal

black grapes, sweet gherkins, roasted pepper medley, kalamata olives, roasted garlic, goat cheese, sourdough slices, good company

Dinner

Grilled teriyaki chicken and pineapple with steamed snap peas and spicy noodles

portrait of a take-home exam

AZ Distance Classic '07

do i really have to go back to straightville, usa?