• Jane Joritz-Nakagawa
  • from LUNA


my eyes become

dead waves

the place where my soul

is buried a handkerchief

on the ground

ushering in

a new pair of glasses

for the sun

the mundane world

becomes a riverbed

smiling like a

victorious soldier

or dancer

my voice starts

to break up

puppies die in the storm

can i have a gun?

puncturing my panic attack

with blue dots

savoring its privilege

  • Jane Joritz-Nakagawa
  • from LUNA


never let the whiners

appear on

my table in bed

wind me up with souffle

bring back the body of love

invalidated tree

sanctioned infant

repealed shadow

handmade concrete

in a dummy war

disable my pastime

fumble my sex

open my skin

touch my root and

foreign my beyond

plastic and magic

sliver and shine

gay engine

attentive slime

in double music

couplet nursery

renovated feces

nostalgic pain

expectation exercise

for a jump fuck

hiccup the lagoon

selfie the siren

bang my poor


oosen my colostomy

fluff the daughter

bomb all statues

eat the young

shine my clothes

fasten the wife

revolve the building

lazy shopping bag

ruthless shoes

unruly pencil

painful devotion

surpassing death

downtrodden spectacle

delusional tennis ball

on a schizophrenic wall

in a malnourished scene

with unprecedented hands

  • Jane Joritz-Nakagawa
  • from LUNA


i never won

the anticipated award but

trees hailed down

like lace curtains

who doesn’t

want to hide behind

something else

all the time


for something better

to not come along

the wind was bony

and dry like

a seagull

in winter

the dogsled doesn’t move

in the picture or

in the real world

you know

from internet

pacing back and forth

the clouds moody

and filthy as a beach

and the trash you left here

what happened

to all the things

that were here

years ago

before you minded

and the air became still

hoping for

the same chemical

taste of music

that lifts you


to a plateau in a

story you did not

want to hear

playing over and over

in your imaginary head

  • Jane Joritz-Nakagawa
  • from LUNA


so much depends

on things going awry

i wonder what my liver

is up to these days

what kind of rain

will make me happy

which foot is more attractive

whose clothes do I have on

will the bird return at noon

i put feed in the box

but you don’t care

you’ve died and left behind a residue

see, here it is,

look how i

lap it up

  • Jane Joritz-Nakagawa
  • from LUNA


once my daydreams spin

out of sight

i’ll finally be alone

you may curse the forest

and praise the dust bunnies

that’s cuz you’re an idiot

who prefers walking

in the middle of the night

on city streets

i once did that but . . .

whoops! long story

that should never be repeated

stuck in my throat

like the breakfast

you made for me

i stay home searching

for my lost daydreams

they must be where my plans are

hiding among the dust bunnies

perhaps memories are forgiveness

in this vacant town

  • Jane Joritz-Nakagawa
  • from LUNA


make a home from

an innocent part of (me)

defiles the horizon

what we love most

between nature and god

culture and journey

liquid and dark

the stairs of the impossible

bitter bone

spreading out endlessly

supple envelope

encases you

airy vacuum

in my repose

further consumption

a loss of limits

all this

could be true

the nighly closing of the flower

surrounded by invisible clouds


Note: some of the language is from Elemental Passions, by Luce Irigaray