Some of my poetry

Ask a good question and

and their eyes

will turn into a viper’s

Full of life

Excited to engage in the discovery

Or to kill you

Either way,

a good question

is worth sinking its teeth into

A good question has the blood of Christ asking why he was forsaken,

A good question has a cat’s paw tapping your glass of cognac just to see what happens

A good question doesn’t lead with an agenda

to make you happier or to feel better.

It’s present

Willing to be bitten, beaten, nailed, eaten, whatever

Dulled out

My energy dolled out to

other people

and their eccentricities

No one is wrong

Everyone has their own grocery lists

ideas and to-dos

They’re not usually trying to hurt you

But can’t help but to

The man squeezing avocados

Is the center of the universe

So is the woman in the return line

rolling her eyes at how long

the cashier is taking

She can’t see the cashier’s crown

Scarcely aware of her own

She gave it away once

It’s been a little lopsided since

Dear therapist,

Take you hand off your heart

Suck your hummed sighs back in

I don’t want em

Get your eager eyes off of me

Your teeth are showing

Teeth

Hungry for my tears

Hungry for my transformation

Hungry for me to heal the broken parts

I’d rather be devoured by my demons

than bled by your gaze

My demons wouldn’t leave a scrap of sinew, tissue, bone, or chunk of fat

They’re professionals

They’re greedy

They want all of me

We’re all food for something

I want to be savored while consumed

Eaten whole