I am waiting

For winter to reclaim my breath

To take November from my lips

I am waiting

For the inevitably of all creatures

I am waiting

As all Crows must



I cannot be your grave

As you cannot be my shelter

Damaged histories bleed

Every breath contaminated

With someone else’s pain

As we stood stupidly

Staring out at the ocean

You clutched my hand tightly

Until the horizon claimed the sun

You left me tear stained broken

Holding your mother’s ring

In the lonely palm of my hand


Where I dash myself

Against the skittering stones

Becomes the place he builds his home

He kneels nightly calling for crows

Whistling for storms

Chanting prophecy

The place on those skittering stones

Where he dashed my bones

Becomes the hole

Suckling void within his breast

Feel me back

I can’t get close to things that won’t feel me back

Feel me back

And I stepped with trust

On the black wings of a crow;

The crow is a sign of hope,

Peace for the dead,

Are you still alive beneath that mask you wear?

I’m sure those eyes feel,

Do you feel goodbyes?

When I have to let go I lose all hope,

Only your voice can comfort me

Content the monsters deep within


Inside of you I’d love to stay

And swim,

No more walking away

Or abject goodbyes

I want no more of those things

That bring pain

And the rain

That killed us on a Monday

(Some alterations made from the original which is C.R. G.A.G 1999)

The last poem bequeathed to this crow before the end.

Heavy stone

In the midst of struggle

I find no solice

In words

Nor blue eyed promises

I reach in through my rib cage

Searching for the beating heart

He said he heard

That November we laid as one

I believe now he lied

For if I had ever possesed a heart

It was surly the ghost’s flame

That turned it to ash

Replaced with a heavy stone

From the shore of his birth

Dead girl

I’ve begun to wonder

If all the scraps I’ve lined my nest with

Are the ghosts of a life I have to leave

I wonder as I see the photos of a dead girl

If she was alive even then

Though she smiled

I wonder as I read old poems

See old sketches

If it is the past reverberating in my bones

Or your long lost baritone


Remember you may no longer

Call the cage of my breast


You may not hide

Inside of me

The key to my secrets

Has been lost

By you, spectre

Call it what you will

But you may not weep

At a departure

You set in motion

For a taste

Of the ordinary


I don’t need your holes

I don’t need your eyes




I don’t need the ghosts

Of our failure

Breaking my heart

I don’t need your smoke

Your truth

Your lies

The earth will hold me

The earth will love me

As the trees shall shelter me

And your hands release me


He sifts through my words

Like sand

Or soft dead music

He touches lines

Mouths syllables

But never my name

He refuses the bird who’s

Echoed his refrain

From one end of madness

To the other

He stands with an abject Monday

Rolled tightly in his hand

Like a lunatic on parade

He yells down his demons

Through the mask of love

Which is really the history

Of two damaged


Empty vessels

Rend the taint of him from flesh

Burn it clean with all manner of fire

Rip his name from my lips

Tear his face from my heart

Purge me of ghosts

Until I am an empty vessel one more