Author Archives: perfectsublimemasters

Moonbathing

Picture this: it is dusk in the countryside. The fluorescent lights from the pool shine all the way to my backyard. We are summer-drunk, mosquito-bitten. Itching at the scratches on our collarbones, hidden by the necklines of our T-shirts. Acrid … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

the aftermath of us

in the shadow of the sharp-toothed moon, i dip my fingers into the hollow of your collarbone. restless, we breathe ourselves into the dust gliding in the sunlight. how beautiful are the dancers with their tendons cut, muscle melting into … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

all things oriental

on a gold-washed morning, my mother tells me about the pearl & how it is torn from the flesh of the oyster’s gaping mouth. yellow run through with red, an arrow, a soundless scream. & what can be done with … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

self-portrait as my mother’s reflection

mama, we hold love like water in our hands, drink it down and pray for a body that can bear more than just children. this is a bloodline tainted in a way we don’t understand: i am what you left … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

give me ribs

I want another rib to compliment a stolen rib. A background of dancers and drink-holding ribs, rib-crushed dancing to Scrapple from the Apple, horn squawking over the ensemble’s smolder ridges. Give me chest pain as I stagger on river rocks, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

A gluten for chocolate published

dark liquid where the butter separates & I’ve devoured a quarter of the globe, bags of Indian snack mix, torn edge of a mushroom pizza, where burnt mecca rips through the roof of the mouth. With my hands I mix … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

IT FEELS LIKE NO ONE HAS EVER LIKED ME, NOW THAT YOU LIKE ME, THE WAY THAT YOU DO

and what am I supposed to say to that? don’t you know you are the pulp of me? why didn’t you tell me you were beneath the bark of the white birch tree across from kindergarten? I would’ve kept peeling. … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Excess

After rain, the river dividing the city, winding through the valley, surges, full, hurling almost grotesquely overstepping boundaries, opaque, feigning solidity, new depths hiding everything. Only last week, everything was snowed under and dull, differently obscured the lost things keys, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Tempest

And in a carnival of clouds of that dulled January day the Midway of a gray Ohio sky— can’t you see the swings fly by, the whirl of signs, lights flashing? A festival this is. There, the whoosh of some … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 1 Comment

This is the room

I grew up in, popped out the window screen of to sneak out of twice a week my second year of high school, hid my first bottle of tequila in; where I left that bottle in a suitcase in the … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction | Tagged | Leave a comment

I’ve been told my way of loving is selfish.

No – no, it is not the same as last time and you can’t convince me that it is. If it is true that everything is lined up ahead of us, like in the stars, does that mean we have … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Ephemerality as Haibang

There, through the car window. The sky a brocade of shimmery dark             velvet. I am nothing more than a moment here. Just today, I ate haibang for the first time in years, the shelled flesh             soft and mushier than I … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Reprint | Tagged | Leave a comment

subway boy

suppose a brown-skinned boy walked to the scratched-up vegan glass at the place you work with soft light in his tree bark eyes and talked about how a redwood grows from a sapling, wiry and sharp-limbed with a desire for … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

No Time To Die

today I was watching a film in the cinema my period came as the man saved the world I could feel myself wet with blood then I got home and saw that my ex-lover had written back to me after … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Squanderer of Words

I know someone who said I love you too much, too soon and she got angry when I pointed out that she was a squanderer. Then she said okay. She said it sucks to have feelings judged. I take it … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

What we got

God so loved the world he gave us all hand-me-downs: a half-used box of crayons and a bent but sharpened knife. What we draw from this or carve into flesh is whatever we make it. The rainbow and the inferno … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

April

mixing memory and desire    — T. S. Eliot Another mish-mash afternoon    of cloud and sun out the window where the world is perfectly framed    with the unobtainable silence of a mirror. Snowcaps on the far blue mountains    vanish into a … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

After the Passing of a Warm Day in February

After the passing of a warm day in February you must return to cold windows, three layers, single digits, snow broken sidewalks, bare knuckled mountains, the length of March, and your body that rips out another day’s page warm weather … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Silent Fires

For Mary Last spring I wanted to drop a poem in your casket But couldn’t find you words I was sure of.   A year later spring comes on again No rhododendron or lilac yet but the magnolias have bloomed … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

The lobby

strangers look at me like they’ve borrowed love off me before. like they’ve come to return it now, but they’ve taken a better, longer look at me and decided maybe after all, I passed up love for a reason. why … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Jazmine and I with cobra lilies

near a serpentine rock ledge wet from a seeping slope the greens of the cobra lily’s veiny body feathers light a wasp, caught in the drowse of sunlight, inspects and enters an opening into the cobra-like head this carnivorous pitcher … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 2 Comments

mushroom casserole

no, I didn’t see the bear today near the ancient apple tree nor did I unfold my beach chair to fish the pond I couldn’t stop writing in my journal I didn’t leave the house I’m sorry I haven’t yet … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

after we climbed through the fence

freight cars blasted by with a rush of wind and screaming metal box cars, hopper cars, empty livestock cars graffiti slipping past us what we really wanted to see was a livestock car with an elephant or a giraffe or … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

stone temple

it seems impossible your jaguar slipped in unnoticed before the stone doors were sealed I will pry the door open for you but you must promise your jaguar won’t attack mine my jaguar simply wants to run free with yours … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

with her red skirt and sequins

she flames on the wick of the Celtic bodhran’s rhythm as the hurdy-gurdy with flutes and guitars build a ladder I now climb                         leading into the wing bones                         of the house – yes, our                         house can fly Michael Spring is … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment