callipygean clasp

i melt into your arms
decoherence, tummy to tummy
i’ll ditch me for a quantum of calm
yeah, for that i find in you

now, what did you say
whisper to me in my ear
oh, this goes where…
but your eyes are up here…
(am i a cannibal if i eat down there)

i want so bad it’s good
my hands amok across your bustle
rock your bloom from the inside out
ask again why i need you


© All rights reserved 2017

GUEST POST // You Will Be Gone by John Feaster

My life goes alone

But it is not a safe life for anyone,
I just hold on to all that I can …
Try this or that, but I am a lost boy.

And when you say, “Maybe, I will read you
In a book store one day” …

I know you are gone.
I am a lost boy writing my life in a song,
And that is all I will ever be.

That is all I will ever have
To give you my darling lady. I will
Always love you, and you will be gone.


© All rights reserved 2017

GUEST POST // Wonder by megdekorne

rare things are growing
the moon is moving , shalom
fly the burning flag of freedom
do you know what it’s like
to be almost swallowed home ?

he pours the tea
gold sugar , emotional weight
unfurls her hair
upon dew shoulders , a soul
scratching in the still and quiet
she is scared
and not scared
an amateur actress standing bare
first on center stage fore square.

” Mary did you know ”
you have a regal stance ?
all mutate in your presence
the camera clicks
she turns her head
and when she sees she does transfix
her human vanishes
the bleak cold winter
a bountiful banquet
shattering dry in the rain debris.

Mary don’t dye your hair
wanting to change your wild esprit
I too am thirsty seeing you there
the moon is moving the tall pine tree
over passing Traverse Bay
glory joins utopian pupils
the lake of her eyes my northern stay .

a spaceship jolts
Issa is here and
he is calling for you
Mary , do you know what it’s like
to be swallowed home ?
I am scared
and not scared for you alone .


© All rights reserved 2016

last may

It’s pretty strange to realise that the person you barely knew yesterday occupies all your space today. But they never ask. They come, grab your guts and start dancing a jig. How cool is that? (This is a poem Tony wrote for me.)


my dance surrounds you
my stoic one, pole to pole
yours is love that lasts


Wow… I’m really moved, Tony! (Psych! Pole dancing definitely isn’t your schtick.) Anyhow, I love you.
– Tati


© All rights reserved 2017