paper bag soul, paper bag heart

paper bag soul
paper bag heart

peering over the edge of it
I remember her
in the mornings

the sun lands on her
like a fly
her hair curled back

the tides of winter
hang like suicides
from her lashes

she is desolate
next to me

a desert

if she rises
I will die
collapse into her
falling into
her milky wake

it’s the us
in her

this is a waltz
these mingled
limbs
weighted still
by shadows

her breath
casts spells
on me until
I don’t exist

Written by Mike Linaweaver
Posted on 02-14-13

dream

nervous laughter
clatters your teeth
into the arms of
Marxists
the first time
you see her
standing
on
every
street
corner

then
all you can do
is dream

Written by Mike Linaweaver
Posted 01-14-13 

Battle Free

I make my weapons
from the slender
arabesques
of syntax
and colloquial 
slits of grammar

these are my methods
my deaths
my serpentine swans
that linger
in the half light
of the
half lidded
drunken moon

words liberate
and leave wounds
it’s not their fault

its yours
for making me

do this
write this
scribble this
scream this

I am free
at war
with

you

Written by Mike Linaweaver
Posted on 02-14-13

out of reach

out of reach 

a shallow
sun lists
tongue tied
against the mountains
in the late
afternoon

and
the aspens are yellow

and
the coffin stretches for years

and
the world is ending

and

all you can do is climb
to find some
quiet place
out of reach

Written by Mike Linaweaver
02-14-13

hell sandwich

hell sandwich

got devils in me 

the night 
looks more like you 
than ever 

somewhere 
in the flashes 

are 

pale flowers 
growing 

living 
in the 
snake pit 
juke joint 
canvases of 
the heart 

another hour 
another day 

strung up 
in black 
face 

its over for us 

and 
out there 
your daughter 
is navigating 
this moonless hell 
alone 

Written by Mike Linaweaver
Posted on 02-13-13