st vash

poetry

[stvash]

smoke and windows

took all day to die down to the last ember plastered to wet drywall ash in all shades of gray all billowing wisps willed to unshielded heaven reciprocity is a seed and my gut thunders with every stern-faced navel kiss a warning shot across the bow one to talk, my hands never stop trembling never fall asleep sober or wake up to a dry pillow if god perches still on that chimney collapsed across all that I had, how can I do this again?

[stvash]

endless

swallowed a heartbreak early on before spine was fully formed in the dulcet cold above the silence where god hawks rain from the back of her throat and disappears again in the starless black; just when did I lose you? was it in the svedka that feels like home in my empty stomach arms akimbo, breath like gunsmoke when the night grieves like a gray wolf with yellow teeth sunk deep in my coronary? I am still right where you left me, god, a ghost in sheep's clothing escaping the blood and body parabola and I swear I would pray if I thought it would help

[stvash]

slipknot

string theory and fragile hands interwoven cat’s cradle with claws out at each other’s throats with fingertip nooses mutually assured take it for what it is albatross politics and sickle cell terrorism wrists war-torn cinnabar asunder pain peeling from the walls

[stvash]

the umbilical between us

tally up another notch in my spine heart held in clenched fist for ransom dig the knife out every breath exhumed the umbilical between us a fresh noose

[stvash]

to the worms and their last meal

thank god for tragedy pressed up like a blade of grass against your lips bent towards the sun in full bloom the clouds in exile dragging their heels across the sky like patient ghosts my home is not here with the sun on the hot asphalt sweating black and corrosive like a stove top burner every shard of shrapnel of love lost cast iron that will never scrub clean give me the moon in a half-crescent halo I am ready for my wooden box out of spite to the worms and their last meal

[stvash]

diaspora

someday I’ll write a poem without death, grief, god or you clung to each letter like a spider web spun on the thin drunk line between numb and bravery but tonight the dark spits like heavy rain and all my hard work spills out with the daylight poring through holes of my sin and skeleton

[stvash]

uneasy lies

ursa minor in hibernation coronation of the yawning black cold wind survived by branches in their unrequited rage no love is unconditional when morning catches breath in the kintsukuroi blue the crown hangs crooked heavy and silent

[stvash]

all days numbered

taught never to touch baby birds or downed power lines because the pain is too much but I was wet paint trembling on the san andreas jaw clenching on a handful of xanax as sun slithered in shackles and shovels of rain fell like spit

[stvash]

dinosaurs drinking their own oil. fuck you

[stvash]

god’s not real but what’s my horoscope say?

the poem returns with missing teeth eclipsed a perfect shade of jaundice full of words like rain and mercy when they bury their loyalty in your spine and ask forgiveness and witness serrated luxury dinosaurs drinking their own oil til the blood runneth over

[stvash]

How do you get ideas for poems?

I plagiarize a younger version of me from when I wasn't creatively bankrupt

[stvash]

the horizon sung vivid

5 am drowns overhead saltwater rising with sunburn intent for every freckled memory etched onto shoulders jutting out like cliffs and a stone face stares where the sun will be in a few hard hours

[stvash]

dnr

a moment of silence with claws out for the casual kill laid to rest at sandaled feet eyelids caving in do not resuscitate running red down both sleeves cannibal glock biting off the hand that feeds

[stvash]

discord

time doesn’t love gently, it eats mouth full of gnarled promises and tumbleweed smiles cartel agave amok outside inside the night is tv snowing in heavy breaths ghosts passing cold through hands like tacit whispers

[stvash]

keep your friends close and your enemies REALLY far away, you don’t need that stress in your life

[stvash]

What is the law of conservation of pain

pain never goes away, it only changes form

[stvash]

What is morphine myth about?

the law of conservation of pain