The Slow Heart Pacing


it’s not so much the double push

one then again straight away

and noticing how it flips and floes

when i feel i am made of nothing

but blood reminds its home is here


up and back around renewed

so many tunnels to travel

so much dark time

and noticing you are not me and

i am not more of nothing


there is a way a hand or voice can change

that squeeze of sinew filling veins

of time with blood and you

the pacing heart moving across that space

on the way to slow forgetting


how to move that red that is not red in the dark interior

its not so much you as the second beat

the heap and heap of you

that presses my whole still life and moves it


sinew flicking through time

up and back, renewed.

This Strange Skin


All gene ready

swimming fish in formation

this grafted river pool

this tide flow incredible

gulping like thick water

at the aperture

inky near black

minnows nip the muscle

all molecule.


Tide pull back

the deep breath in

drowning in oxygen

flip impossible

inverted completeness

all rib and smooth crackle

this life heat

push forward

into generation.


The rip and weep of it

the sonar

all alien melt water

all friction

this strange skin

presses the tide

pulse and form of it

river swell and sea weight

the hush and cry.