Tag Archives: dark



When there’s something you can’t hold

When what you are is not allowed

When the people you know best aren’t real

While the real people don’t know you at all

When your soul has gone off

Like a brown avocado

And the only thing in this world that feels right

Is the knife in your hand

Breaking the rules

Unleashing hell

Blade scrapes bone.

By another’s death

You acknowledge your own existence

You are alive

For a moment.

But what is left to fill

The countless minutes between stabbings

Except bleakness














On the Death of a Mouse


Molly caught a mouse in the garage.

Don and I watch her poke at it.

She is proud.

She sprawls happily on her side

The picture of feline contentment

Stretches one sharp little paw and give it a lazy push.

It twitches a little.

How do you think she killed it, Don asks.

It doesn’t have any visible wounds.

And although she is a fine mouser

She never learned to eat them.

Maybe she scared it to death, I say.

Maybe it had a heart attack.

Prey can sometimes panic themselves to death.

They are so close to panic already

Their nervous systems strung tight as harp wire.

How could he not break under the weight

Of the persistent cat’s killing intent?


I go into the garage and get the shovel

Scoop the mouse up

And take it outside.

It still twitches.

So I drop it onto a shady spot beneath the maple

And bash its brains out with the shovel.


I remember when killing was hard.

My first mouse in a mouse trap haunted me for three days

And intermittently again

For two more years.

My first roadkill made me nauseous with empathy

For about five minutes.


After a while

Killing didn’t bother me anymore.

What bothered me more than anything

Was the fact that I wasn’t bothered.


I butchered a rooster

To see if I really was what I suspected I might be.

It was easy.

My only regret

Was that the knife wasn’t sharp enough.

With this act

Came the dizzying knowledge

That I was capable of worse.

Of much, much worse.

Is it this way for farmer housewives

For butchers

For hunters

For soldiers?


How do you come to terms

With your own capacity for good or evil?

I thought a lot about it

(I did a lot of thinking then)

I decided that it was like driving.

At first, when driving, I was afraid

Of the weapon I controlled.

One impulsive wrench of the wheel into oncoming traffic

And how many people would die?

What was stopping me?

I waited for myself to do it

But I never did.

So it is with murder.

Knowing that I am capable

Does not change anything.

I trust myself not to do something awful for no reason.

Coming to terms with one’s own power

Is a test of ethics.

I haven’t hurt anybody.

I don’t plan on it.

But knowing that seed is in me

And embracing it

As part of myself

Means it has no need to grow.


I wipe off the shovel and go inside

With only a slight and transient wonder

At my lack of feeling.

I forget all about it

Until recounting my day in my journal.

What feelings did I have today? I write.

And I come up with seven other notable events in my day

Before I remember killing the mouse.














Lady Chaos

lady chaos

give me your blessing

i will switch sides

join, break, create, destroy, live, die, i will become you

lady chaos

you are already within me

my heart is black and red by turns

i cannot be everything at once

but i am anyway

warm human blood threads my veins

and icewater

i am primed with your changeable ichor

pump me up, let me loose, see what havoc i wreak


men with their puny plans

trying to set order

nothing tempts her like security

she eats empires, grinding even the ruins back down into shapelessness

she tosses fortunes to beggars

our lives hinge upon her whim


you throw me down

build me up

and when you are done with me

cast me aside

i know you’ll return

you always return


i carry her wishes           

(i hear her laughing)


“Goodnight,” he whispered, kissing her softly.

Juliana slept through it. So beautiful, with those long black curls and that delicate bone structure. How had a loser like him ever managed to snag this angel?

She’d rejected his first proposal, and his second. But eventually his persistence paid off. Their first night together, he carried her over the threshold, and they made love. After, he cried. Juliana never judged him for his tears.

The next morning, she let him put her in a dress which he’d picked out for her, and burn the clothes in which her family had buried her.