Our posit on a curled hook, hanging straight like slaughtered beef in lockers of our chosen chill. Our sins and organs all contained. The cows had no choice. And I lament our still lives on their way to death. We shut down music in the mid-stream of a song. (Unwind, is all) we often say. […]
The bottle stops the clock.
The fit seizes meI drift tearing sound of shot silk plosions below. Gray sun changes to pale yellow wash. Milt bops. Duke downshifts. Bessie kneels from midnight to sun in golden chains. Thin hipped, thin lipped, you come trailing your bluest India, weeping to any night switchman, tickling his crotch Sex, you sing, is just […]
To snooze? Two gaunt men–the one I visited yesterday with bones older than mine; the other, today, my age. I wish to make a gift of my fat. I have more than I need. Yes, but the mysterious laws of this planet, do not permit it. If masters there be, in India, or in the […]
When you die, you will look back
upon the motley, hurley-burley carnival
with a tiny pentagram of wry compassion
in your open, trusting eye
Come sit with me, in valleys
of my shoulder blades,
whistle something in my ear
No PC art could rescue her;
this thinness where thick plump belongs.
In a beauty shop called Perfect Look
your blindness sits upon a couch.
"Any man of sense would remember that the eyes are doubly confused from two different causes, both in passing from light to darkness and from darkness to light; and believing that the same things happen with regard to the soul also, whenever he sees a soul confused and unable to discern anything he would not […]
I promised you, I know, I know
I’d wash a gravel pile of clothes
It’s half-past two,
sunny as a shiny penny
rubbing pockets of the world.
“The ceremony of innocence is drowned…”
Mother, you are my dream scroll…
dear nobody, I have taken drugs to calm the pale pearl faced woman with red hair that lives inside me my sweet mania (you saw her briefly, fled from her open legs) I had to lure her with the glassy green globes of chloral hydrate, drape her in the dark mourning of depression and as […]
words like black blood from the frozen ground: a psalm and twenty years later you still dream of your childhood house on fire you turn to me for all of the things i can no longer give you the names of streets or of old lovers or the reassuring weight of lies and everything […]