Your Fortress

The walls of your fortress
Yield to me and no other—

The high battlements of your shoulders
Dressed with morning light,
The pennants of your hair
Snapping in the wind of my
northern steppes—

When you open your gates to me
I enter like a returning king
Showered with petals and kisses and rings
And climbing your high tower
I find you already there
Awaiting my arrival.

-Geoffrey Griffard

Escape

The rivets of your spine
And the bars of your ribs
Try to hold
your soul in,
But she is escaping through your eyes.

-Geoffrey Griffard

This Is My Sabbath

This is my Sabbath
This mind is my church
A sanctuary swollen
with candlelight
The prayers of saints and sinners alike
Whispered in
tongues, screamed in the voices of beasts
each prayer a hymn
each hymn a
paean to a fresh fallen angel
those liquid slick thoughts that sprout their
own wings
and fly too close to the altar
before they wilt like week-old roses
sacrificing themselves to the God of Doubt.
Each day that ends in a
question mark
Is my Sabbath
And each answer is communion.

-Geoffrey Griffard

The Museum of My Regret

The Museum of My Regret
is empty of displays.

The Curator grows a long beard
To occupy his time,
He cannot acquire any new pieces
Due to my lack of funding,

He will accept on loan
A piece or two from Your Museum
From the display of
When you left me.

-Geoffrey Griffard

Sunny B

That bitch,
the sun, comes
nagging long
before
noon
mewling for the grass to be
cut
and the curtains to
be
opened
bleating for a
milking
crowing for a
cooking
and
butting her big red nose
into my face--
onion breathe and all;
I roll
away and bury
my head in the sand
(in your hands;
between your
breasts).

-Geoffrey Griffard

All of Your Mouths

All of your mouths
I have kissed
each pouty, angry,
hungry lip has met mine,
made love in alleys, cars,
beds like they
were the whole of us
and not some small piece.

-Geoffrey Griffard

Impossible Queen

I would swallow the seas

to make a road to your shore

I would tear down great walls

just to knock on your door

I would swim through volcanoes

to bring you a ring of gold

I would find you the fountain

so you never grew old

Sparks become new stars

my heart is in between

the hammer of heaven

and the anvil of my queen

I would climb the highest peak

to fetch the rarest dove

I would rebuild the pyramids

if I thought it’d win your love.

-Geoffrey Griffard

Truth or Salvation

In one hand he holds Truth

In the other he holds Salvation—

You may choose only one,

Truth

Pandora’s Box filled

With bats ready to fly from the cave

Of noise and light,

Salvation

The bonus vacation

Given to every successful salesman

Who enters into the President’s Club,

I choose: Truth

is its own Salvation.

-Geoffrey Griffard

Us

I love it

best when we are

silent—

wordless we

on the same journey

(in our minds)

(in our hearts)

arriving at the same terminal

simultaneously—

at that place called:

us.

-Geoffrey Griffard

One moment I am

One moment I am

with you, the next

you are a receding wave

washing away our footprints

from this shore.

-Geoffrey Griffard

Good Lovers

Good lovers—like lice—

are hard to shake,

Good lovers—like thirst—

are hard to slake,

but Good-byes—like lies—

always come true

and that’s the end of

good me like good you.

-Geoffrey Griffard

Ode to Glutinous Love

My sweet is a hungry

mouth below my heart fond

of smoked salmon with capers and

slivers of both livers

for a cleaner love—

her metabolic mmmnmmm’s

are my burbling blubs,

her smallest coo

a billion grubs dancing

in the skillet

frying on the fire

boiling in the oil

grown in the soil

fertilized by the outcome of

all our love-eating.

-Geoffrey Griffard

My life is lonely

My life is lonely

for your life,

my eyes are hungry

for your scent

of sweet milk

and honeyed dew,

my tongue will never tire

of your thoughts

and never worry

about refreshing flowers

in your presence

nor in the absence

of rain,

my vanity sings

of your vanity

and my hands weep

for your touch.

-Geoffrey Griffard

Status is an overcrowded neighborhood

Status is an overcrowded neighborhood

with spiking home prices

and so many barbeques

that the sky is thick with smoke

and smells of melting stags,

so many pool parties

that the children are clean

as newly-minted pennies—

shiny and coppery to the taste—

Don’t move there

Don’t drive through

Don’t visit relatives there—

rent in rundown Respect

rather than buy in the suburbs

of Pride.

-Geoffrey Griffard

All things from the earth

All things from the earth

are cheap and tawdry

being as they are homemade

and magma-inseminated

then covered with the seeds

of a trillion living things,

so for a small price

you may have the world

at the convenience store of your choice.

-Geoffrey Griffard