Morning wood
by michael hessel-mial
Like entering a room
where a woman waits,
reclining, with coy eyes,
I stumble into awakeness
onto my erection, silent
and patient.
Given time to dress,
it isn’t rumpled or slouched
in its suit of hardness, but relaxed
and full, having …

The Opening Line
by michael hessel-mial
Something
punctures the center
of the surface,
but of what isn’t the surface
for long,
like a ball’s gravity
bending space
in an unseen dimension,
matter leaking towards the intersection,
the point of reference
that allows it all
to be seen through.
Punctuated
by …

sky-green clouds, blue earth
by michael hessel-mial
Sun curving lightly,
twist
over the glittering
blisterdome, six
mile-high coffeeshops
direct lightning
to where it cannot be reached,
except through
handshakes. I long
for the days before
the menstrual taboo
replaced the world of smells,
somewhere between sulfur
and the aging limburger
our …

Do it.
by michael hessel-mial
Do it.
Right. Man, that’s Right.
Man, you …

girl in one glance
by michael hessel-mial
I spent all day following a bruise
on a pale bare thigh,
all day, every day,
over hills and down rivers,
at the bottom of the ocean and the center of a star,
beyond the …