Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

When I died…

That Obscure Object

“I find science analytical, pretentious and superficial–largely because it does not address itself to dreams, chance, laughter, feelings, or paradox–in other words, all the things I love the most.” –Luis Buñuel   If I’m not mistaken, those guys in orange jumpsuits lean on their shovels and light cigarettes when they ought to be digging my grave. That blowing smoke and confidential talk— Women are all the same.— our brains bathed […]

Continue Reading →

I Will Die in Texas

after Vallejo I will die in Texas, on a day temperatures soar, 109 or 113, a blazing hellhole of a day, unlike soft days on the coast. I will die in Texas, perhaps on a Monday morning like this one, mercury skyrocketing. Yes, it will be a Monday and in the morning. As I conjure extravagant surf, succulent pines, music of draining tidal pools trickles my brain, and NBC’s meteorologist […]

Continue Reading →

Maybe the Dead

Lie awake at night in the cool surf between the greyness of sharks and the dream of teeth dropping like petals in the pinkness of Spring. Each night the house Witch chased me from basement to attic, Lion bit a big hole in my little leg, my Dark-Mare galloped on; I flew, pedal to the air, my gored knee rattling like my son’s baby teeth, tic-tacs boxed in my pocket, […]

Continue Reading →

The Beginning of the End

The machines in the frigid ICU were silent. The IVs were stopped and so was her heart. No respiration moved the sheet pulled over her face, But the brain was still functioning, although weakly. She was like a meteor that had fallen from space Into the frosty night of the Arizona desert, her outer Shell cold around a still warm but steadily chilling core. She thought, so this is the […]

Continue Reading →