tofu memories

castigating sharps and flats

we played major chords

as ninja melodies

flew backwards

to rooftops

and vanished

during a long hot, dry season.

you are a farce.

a tragic play

on my screaming stage.

I am a dog

flea-ridden and stinking

howling for your scratch.

Mortar and Pestle

suck a forlorn recipe:

my body

your religion

simmering in summer's heat

culling over-ripe cucumbers

from a scrawny salad

we feast

on memory's mornay

like a soiled nappy

my heart reeks of babyshit

every word you said

sorry if I don't

measure up to your yardstick

but you drew the lines

Kelly tried to tell me

that I was special.

I snatched her arrow of praise

and stabbed her heart.