The Plum
The Angelicall
The Recipe, (Aotearotica)
The Robbery
The Lesson, (Aotearotica)
The Sunday Bite
The Arrow (BRKFST Biannual)


The Plum

My untouched fruit

Falls red and rotten

Bleeding lost           sweetness

Upon his             hard

.                     wood

.               floor              He then passes

.                                 Me an unused rag

Says it was intended

To go in my mouth –

.                                Now it’s just wasted

food                       Use this he says

.                            And some warm

.                         Water from my spigot

.                       To wipe it all away

Don’t leave

.                 A single salty drop

.              For me to discover

.         After you’ve gone

I will come back

Here for you

Once you’ve cleaned up

.           And remember

.           When                   you are                in

.                                         My home             you

Will take

Care of you      r

Own mess

I                         won’t                       do it

.                                                          For you.


The Angelicall

If we are all everything
Then I wonder

Whether this stone
Pitiful cherry gem

.     ( Andesine
.          Labradorite

.               Retriever of
.                    The heart )

I am holding
Tightly like a grip

Prehensile within
My memory

.     ( An infertile clutch I
.          Bear everything within

.               O very care full
.                    Lee lest I crack )

I wonder if this
Grit remembers

Things I cannot
Place anymore

.     ( Have miss place
.          Din genus loci

.                Imperative in
.                    My categorical )

Like what mouths
Are for beyond

Holding others
What it felt like

.     ( Fascia
.          Dentata

.               Amore
.                    Amorphous )

To have a hunger
Fromm guttural

To gut something
More substantial

.     ( Animalia
.          Eukaryotic

.               A thing I know I
.                    Didn’t just make up )

These life sustaining
Holes beg sustenance

Good things to eat
I hear them called

.     ( In Genesis a dam
.          Cell and man who had

.               All creatures named
.                   Before the fall )

Say something any
Thing sweet to me

Wax granular rock
In explanation of

.     ( What is your
.          True name again

.               creature   and what
.                    Should I call you )

What all those empty
Spaces in between

The head and hipbone
Are supposed to do

.     ( Nature never
.          Bends but bends

.               Us within
.                    It’s bending )

Or prefer a crystal
Cavern pristine singing

Songs of resonation
An echo of something

.     ( What was supposed
.          To go in there

.               I think it was
.                   Called being fed )

Restless reliquary
Requisitory for reason

Recall my being
Necessary for something

.     ( Encoded storage
.          Retrieval that stone

.               Again calcified
.                    Oxalate phosphate )

Or sleep I remember
That fondly what was

That supposed to be
For what was that for

.     ( Only some mammals
.          Sleep with just

.               Half their minds
.                    Never truly dream )

Fathom half-awake
All of the time

Maid in waiting
The kiss of a killing blow

.     ( A dream nothing
.          But imagination

.               Or fae bravery
.                    In repose )

What use is that
Thing I think I can recall

Could have always
Used one of those

.     ( What time is it
.          Where are we

.               Who are you
.                    How do I get home )

Seems curious
Seems interesting

Seems a waste
Of so much creativity

.     ( In desperation ask
.          A seer beside me

.               Why were we cast out
.                    Only to constantly be )

Called back eternally
By our master and she

Scribes me the secret
Witch I didn’t know

.     ( Because being
.          Awake is tragedy

.               And far easier for him
.                    To love just in words )

O stone of my
Stoning I throw

You so far
I shatter myself

.     ( And everything
.          We ever were

.               I wonder then
.                    What we are )



The Recipeaoetearotica

I crack my
heart against
you like
an egg

The slippery
yolk slides
over those
cruel fingers

And you
smile, satisfied,
as it
runs down
my leg.


The Robbery

Used to bring me sticks
Gorgeous piles of wood
The envy of every woodshed

Used to give me the gift of rivers
Whole oceans laid out before me
Waves of wrapping teared open

A banquet for one thousand
Wet mouths working tirelessly
Would find perfectly impossible

To swallow up whole
It would take forever and still
Take a miracle to finish

Used to give me the earth
Rubbed tenderly against me
Stinging cheeks with its richness

Gave me the gift of thyself
In all it’s terrible joy
And fractious anxiety such

Noble revelatory terror
The sweetest gifts
The envy of every other man

One by one
I watched the present
Being taken away from me

With no apology
Or understanding
Never sure why they left

Or where they
Would ultimately go
If they would ever return

Now I sit alone
On another precious
Birthday my favorite

Day taken from me
Night fleeing always
Too infinitely

Gripping the sun
In my bed knowing
This too will go

The gifts my men
Have given me
So full and empty

My beautiful boys
If only I knew how
To craft myself

A perfect toy
That would never
Break again


The Lessonaoetearotica

You tell me not to bite
We don’t bite
We never bite
you say
and slap
me hard

My cheek
buzzing from
the sting
I stare back
and say nothing
but my eyes
can’t stay shut
quite as well
as my mouth
refuse to
keep quiet
always tell
the truth
from across
an expanse
of inches

they spit
and they hiss
and they whisper

what point
is this
soft thing
this weak
pink palette
of skin
without these
tiny knives
what point
if not
to rend
and snap
and graze
and generally

how delicate
you must be
if you can’t
bear such
tiny pearls

I have
two mouths
and if
you can’t
handle one
then by all
means take
the other

These things
I do not say
but say
the language
of my gaze
head tilted
jaw set
eye ablaze

You watch
them state
their case
then lean
the divide
and say

I won’t

let you


near it

until you

can control

that mouth.


Another night
we roll in
the darkness
we tussle
we writhe
I feel
your teeth
nip at
my neck
my hand
darts out
and strikes

Your cheek
buzzing from
the sting
I tell you

We don’t bite
We never bite

And bite back
as you sink
inside me.


The Sunday Bite

The same


The same

Night hours

Apart tell me

Why fate

Would do

Such nonsense

To us

What kind

Of cruel

Game is that

Bitch playing

My god

Why why

In hell

Why did

You go

My shadow

Bent over

The table

As you —


your meal.



Exquisite archer
who has
me strung
up like a
fine bow
crafts me
in his
able hands
just so
I bend
the way
he wants
and needs
it pleases
him to
see me
pulled apart
readied for
his fatal
dart placed
my wood
and string
then bent
before him
He pulls
and I

I snap
He lets go.