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Far far away
another time,

some distant shore
on which we lay

faerie sand
dusting, clinging
our legs entwined,

skin bare, browned
warm butterscotch Sun
smiling down

and the sea
the sea
The Sea!

~ always between us ~
now rushes to love us
Her arms all over us

me in you
you in me
the s/he in She

and these sweet-salt kiss
making us free

© 2018 J. Noade


I save meat scraps
in the freezer,

for Coyote

Once a month
I enter a forest
and make the offering

Not wanting to sacrifice twice
once to me, my dinner
I can’t throw a life
to the garbage heap,
not even one so unknown

someone can use it

“Jesus died for your sins…
the body of Christ…amen”
The body of lamb
The body of cow

Have mercy on us

Given to sustain
life on the ground
so many animals
to keep just one alive

I chew the grizzled parts
the fat
I save these too,
after spitting out

I place them
with Loving Care
into the plastic bag
into suspension

I wonder…
does He taste my saliva
and recoil, drop it from his sharp jaws?
Or ingest my germs, my dreams
like a nocturnal sin eater?

I imagine co-migling
in His gut
digesting there,
churning and listening to the
sounds of utter darkness

Then running Night into Day

So simple for Him
His need


Try to survive
as they take the land

Cry dog tears
when one of your own
goes down

Can you teach me a way
to know the woods again?

To know what to do
each day
with this burning
animal blood?

To howl when the sirens
swing by
a canine chorus
for every unlucky accident

A beastly Bacchae
for those ripped to pieces
for those about to lose

A sanguine symphony in fur
tears, spit, earth,
on our paws

Digging in

© 2018 J. Noade



“Last Year’s Rushes” ©. 2018 J. Noade


                     San Francisco Night Bus, 1998 © J. Noade



hertz in the veins

© 2015 J. Noade

on a slippery sky
among the blown ash
and dissipating screams

a boy gets lost
a girl, her treasure buried
… no one sees the light go out

they find each other on the tip of a star

surrounded in blackness
dancing on a slim, wet
band of light

holding tight,
squeezed impossibly shut

as it falls and flickers
scatters, sprinkles
onto garbage and drying blood

the howls that echo in their
newly fledged ears pierce the night

a baby is born
a mortal dies

infinity circles the eight
as they learn to crawl together
touching skin and skein

just like then,
and then

their once upon a time
a timeless dance

their feet, fingertips

© 2016 J. Noade



And I’ll do it for you
I’ll be the Rose of Sharon for you
I’ll do it for you
I’ll be the Lily of the Valley for you
I’ll do it for you
I’ll be Isolde or Marion for you
I’ll do it for you
Ooh I’ll come in a hurricane for you
I’ll do it for you — Kate Bush “The Song Of Solomon”

yes, i saw
you held tight
with fingers five
white knuckling it
like a vice,
or a maiden
on the tip,
the lip of
a cliff

as you spoke
in earnest
on your long,
tall tower

of things “not changed”
or so i thought
as if my babel fish
could instantly
speak the words
i longed to hear

and five are as good
as ten, are they not?

for just think of
all the music
that can be
deftly played
on one hand

the left
not visible
free to scoop in the
sky or stroke the stars
to sleep

gather them
into my hair
so that I can see my

all the way
back home

while the right plucks the
sinew-strings of my unholy flesh
a song made just for you

i am the flesh made word
a song of solomon
a song of songs
turned from
dreams that hum
out at night

© 2016. J Noade

In trying to find you, I see all these things

hilarious really,

they come out like the words of a small child

learning to crawl and talk

there must be a beautiful space


in between all these squiggles and lines

It must be silence. Yes, perfect silence.

© 2016 J. Noade

Listening to you
call my Name
as the coyotes dance
before my eyes

dear, on a night like this

in someone’s borrowed car
I run and run
speed the white lines
in a firewater blur

(I never do this
it could spell double trouble;
cheating death, deformity,
the battery boys in blue)

the city circles and circles
until I find my forgotten
wild woods

once again tonight,
I can’t escape the
lunacy of others

and how it reaches in,
guts and garrottes
filets my entrails
long and lurid

screaming through this
borrowed, beggar’d territory

oncoming car lights illuminate
my poisoned eyes


they break the darkness

and like the wild dogs
I must flee on silent, padded foot
head left, head right

a circle of eyes
senses on high

dear, on a night like this
in my flight
I found a tiny slice of paradise

hidden again
bathed in black shadow

I let out a breath
and found our
Sacred Night

~ kiss the ground in its stead where your body should bed ~

If I could stay here
curled in Her arms
until She could gently
pass me into yours

the deal
the bargain

what I would pay…
trés chere, cherie

on a night like this

to sign in blood
the bargainer’s price

spin a wheel
flame the contract

spit on the palm
of that double-cross


let the liquid stupor take me
Styx and stones

slumber into a morning
that no one can trace

© 2016 J. Noade

Tara in the Blossoms

“Tara in the Blossoms” © 2010 J. Noade

A Bully and a Terrorist are not so different.
Only one uses a subtle weaponry.