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The Milkweed | Undressing His Royal Highness

https://krystinofthegauls.wordpress.com/2011/02/02/the-milkweed

Undressing His Royal Highness. February 2, 2011. Some snaking hairs shining green and oily. Some of good and evil. Some of in and out. Some caressing with their rounded tips. Some open cradle of a face. Some vulnerable concavity of a cupped hand. Sometimes full of thick froth. Some tendrils broken off pushing out a white hot leak. Some lips crunching underfoot as if. Some of them were dying as. Someone prying, really,. Some fingernail digging at the seam. Some to tear out, to lift out. Some child of silk.

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Undressing His Royal Highness | Page 2

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Undressing His Royal Highness. Newer posts →. 98: The Letters of St. John (working title). May 2, 2010. This is the church where my mother gave birth to me,. And after it was all done. Her tubes tied, her belly taped back together. And my soft head molded into the shape of a sinner). I was given a mop to wipe the beads. Of blood and afterbirth off the floor. Lovely, lovely, it hung from my scalp. In deep red rivulets catching in the. Virgin Mary’s moon-face. And Bobby Sands sits by the empty altar,.

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Brothers | Undressing His Royal Highness

https://krystinofthegauls.wordpress.com/2011/02/02/brothers

Undressing His Royal Highness. Play Ball →. February 2, 2011. I have two hearts. One is in the usual spot behind my ribcage, but the other lies there between the fifth and sixth vertebrae, hating the first and its prime position, where everybody looks, and the two press upon one another like brothers in bed wrapped in the same single sheet. But the other coos in its bed of bone, burying its little hands in my spine. And it cries in its bed unknown, and it feels it. This entry was posted in Uncategorized.

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Play Ball | Undressing His Royal Highness

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Undressing His Royal Highness. The Fight →. February 2, 2011. The day they tore down Texas stadium,. We all watched it on little salt-and-pepper tvs,. And we forgot the first time. We dove into the community pool in the middle of summer. When heat stroke stole our best men and children,. How we cried in our dayglo floaties. And all the capillaries in our cheeks filled with hot blood. And screamed right in the face. Of those chlorine bubbles. We all saw it, but quickly turned away. Surprised by the part.

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SNOW DAY | Undressing His Royal Highness

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Undressing His Royal Highness. 98: The Letters of St. John (working title). The Answering →. February 2, 2011. The Grocery Store in December. A little past midnight, the cats begin to call from their burn barrel beds, and from the back of the parking lot you’ll hear a marching coming from the cracks in the linoleum. They are sailors, calloused as the day they began slicing rotten produce. They are felons, lining up the row. They are husbands, tying lover’s knots to keep her still. The dog, as in. Imagine...

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The Answering | Undressing His Royal Highness

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Undressing His Royal Highness. The Milkweed →. February 2, 2011. Our answering machine plays back. The voices of our dead. It lies on the table. Dust from its speaker. Settles in the light. The tape spins forward. They say it’s not possible. To separate meaning from sound —. The way she makes her i’s into ah’s,. Whispers inside of death’s mouth —. Like you did when she lived. And poured coffee for you. In the morning when the sun. Lit her fingers and her hair. Was bright in the steam of it.

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The Fight | Undressing His Royal Highness

https://krystinofthegauls.wordpress.com/2011/02/24/the-fight

Undressing His Royal Highness. In Which Panama Al and The Poet Float →. February 24, 2011. I am like you too in that I bleed from both my heart and my mouth. And like a handshake, I slammed The Face of Panama Al Brown into a corner at the beginning of the sixth round, and the shattering of his teeth cried. Try, always try. After the fight, they all said I was flying now into the sky, propelled by the elastic waistband around my satin shorts. The Poet was a champion. The Poet was a slingshot.

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In Which Panama Al and The Poet Float | Undressing His Royal Highness

https://krystinofthegauls.wordpress.com/2011/02/24/in-which-panama-al-and-the-poet-float

Undressing His Royal Highness. In Which Panama Al and The Poet Float. February 24, 2011. When Al and I were kids,. My mom used to take us to the outskirts of town. Where Jean Cocteau taught swimming lessons in his. Above-ground pool. Of all his pupils, we were. The most adept floaters. The art of floating involved. Craving the touch of other people with wet skin –. It was a prenatal familiarity, Al and I feeling each other. From the womb, and Cocteau catching our mistakes. Floated with our elbows touching.

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About | Undressing His Royal Highness

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Undressing His Royal Highness. Self-proclaimed Lounge Laureate of the Great North State. Part-time poet on the weekends. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out.