Fusion: Art and Poems

Every day I turn inside out for you.......Page 13
A long drought, the sudden touch, a veil  pulled away. What’s between the layers  lets the image live.......Page 15
It’s the Vacancy sign  that stays with me, its molten  landscape with the current  shorted out. On a map of dark  topographies, that word  burrowed into my loneliness  with its prophecy.......Page 17
Complexities of Sex......Page 18
Split......Page 19
a body tries to tell its truth but the sun is shining hotly now,  never mind the pain light brings......Page 21
is smoking a cigar, but the woman can’t see what it cost him: his hands are full of ashes,  his fingers licked with flame.......Page 23
In the cool cave of thought his twisted root leads  backwards and forwards along the slippery streets  between lips and  teeth.......Page 25
we measure the meaning of forever   you move  through me,  and light  bounces  from one  skin  to the other. dark hides  from light as light  pursues it  but it’s dangerous  to stand this  close  to that  truth while the clouds are   erasing the sun.......Page 27
She Lives in a Hospitable Place......Page 28
.......Page 30
Pink blossoms from the cherry tree swirl around the garden birdbath, plush the lounge chairs, drape the table in fragrant cover. The evergreen, too, has thickened with flowers, leaning low over azaleas not yet in bud.  Arriving on paths of wind-tossed.........Page 31
Brush by dripping brush  the woman laved color over the winter weary kitchen.  White-winged counters drifted  amid the blush of seashells. Cupboards rocked off their hinges with the idea of orange  and the chairs knocked knees under a bee-bright tabl.........Page 33
The Body is a Throwaway Thing......Page 37
Bad Mouth......Page 39
the minute she begins  to calculate  her faith  in second chances......Page 41
Separation Anxiety......Page 43
if became when  and then, right now,   and the present was where  I moved past you.......Page 45
It rained for days  when you left,  the city’s wheels mired in mud,  waterlogged trees  falling across the road  in splintering grids. It made me think of the kind of traffic where you followed  close behind me, bumper to bumper,  trusting we would g.........Page 47
horizontal and vertical cross paths where  the distance  between two points is not  that short. there is more to consider than distance & direction --   break the line hold the line  stay inside the lines  but between the lines is where   an idea hatc.........Page 49
If I could touch my desire, I’d drown it.......Page 51
How can they fathom the depths we drown in  every dappled night? Where the day  has crisped black, we cast our net  toward the shadows and fill it with fishes.  Dripping light, we throw each one back.......Page 53
as you pull in the green  all around us.......Page 55
What was it like before you were born,  treading your mother’s depths in the float of uncountable time? You think you thought you heard a song enter then, but when you woke,  you remembered nothing.......Page 57
A woman lifts a blouse  from a drawer. Wilted lace.  Buttons hanging by a thread. She groans, though the fabric  weighs only ounces. Tugging  each sleeve from its shoulder  as if her arms were still in them  and the evening young, she rises on her toe.........Page 59
Man with Hot Air......Page 60
we kept on the farm.  Her farm. Her childhood. The brain unravels backward.  Did I know you then? I tell her that I am her daughter.  You are? How lovely!   She closes the book and holds me  as close as if one of us had been lost.......Page 63
For months she crossed   a hot dry path  until her lips split   and she called out for comfort.    The rains came  and she opened her mouth  greedy for each drop that filled her.     She was a river  and fish leapt from her   until her hook was baited.........Page 65
nor are they sorry  for the depths  to which they have plunged her  drowning ship.......Page 67
a ring brings us back into place.......Page 69
Your sister is still  at the other end of the phone, singing her hosannas.  Your ex thinks it’s his turn now, though tit for tat was never established.  Demands are made. Some are met. The ones who hurt you most want forgiveness at all hours of the ni.........Page 71
before it sings itself extinct.......Page 73
but by its absences......Page 77
From an eclipsing sky he tumbles down a well  thinking about the bereaved,  how they line up at ticket counters  looking for their own way out. What would they do for the chance to walk away from their skins? Smoke  alarms fail, insurance expires. Yo.........Page 79
No key  No door  No room  No bed   Just this carpet pad.  Carpet already stolen.   No valuables  in the blanket   I found the painting in the trash  Picket fence Spiky sun Stick figures   Nothing worth having   No people  No house  No   Please do not .........Page 81
I can see you almost believe in me.......Page 83
Put that Face Back On......Page 84
The taste of iron,  the eroticism of  someone else’s pain.  None of it is our fault.  We are true  to our natures.  We wrap sins  previously paid for  in butcher paper  and pray  to the figurine  in the attic.   We need something  to lean on and the g.........Page 87