Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Rosary For 2000 and Nine

I don’t pray
I smoke cigarettes
Delicate white keys
That hang elegantly between my medicated lips
Silently unlocking intuitions
From opaque tombs
Where they were buried alive
Centuries ago or last week
Reanimated corpses of my true feelings
About this, the Queen city
And myself
The vibes I’m giving off
While loitering by the Kitchen entrance
Fuming with grey-green hallucinogenic visions
Caused by five minutes alone with my freezing sweat
And snowy ankles
Hypodermic bullet to the tension epicenter
All up in flames and nicotine
Remembering “I AM ALIVE”
Forgetting that I am mortal

I don’t pray
I write letters to my friend
And I speak at dizzying length
About mice upon mice
And the ghost of a mouse
Whom I called “Little Brown”
Who was darkly murdered
In a shocking accident
And the varying interpretations on
What is considered “humane”
I also write my friend about
How I think spanking is not only sensual
But ingenious
Guessing it might come down to personal preference
I am ecstatic that we share this proclivity
Name Brother and a cool customer
I duly note his ghostly eyes
Go on to illustrate a dream
Close with my lipstick
And hot breath from a one-hit.

I don’t pray
I read the horoscopes
The moon’s in Gemini
From the Universal jewel-box
Some necklace all of planets
Tangles to arrange us
And I become my own twin
Each sibling plots to murder the other
And I hope at least one of them succeeds
In this Spy Vs. Spy scenario
Playing out in my subconscious
There is a well-dressed cartoon madness
That is smeared like honey
On my brains
Where dreams gently bite my neck
With Manitoban tenderness
Teaching me about the seasons
Needing more than one wing to fly,
But less than two:
Everything is rigged all right
Still I persist in gambling

I don’t pray
I cut my hair
A symbol of my spiritual release
From the memories of the old style
Polluted by corrupted wire-hanger instruments
That tried to force me open
Slipping credit cards
Into latched up doorway 5 feet and 5 inches tall
Intruder my intruder
With ugly pathological lies
+ maliscious hopes for what becomes of me
I don’t quit, cause I hate to quit
Slipping your deformed right hand
Into something far too dangerous
Attempting to reach and subsequently
Restrain what is wild
Like the horses on the island
My freedom is wordless
Unexplained, without an argument
There are no handles for me
No coded entry
There is just no way to chain
My mammalian soul

I don’t pray
I wear a white sweater
Half-naked like some refugee
In quilted blanket of smoke
Draped in 3,000 thread count silk intentions
Memories all frayed around the edges
And the temple buzz from THC
The hum of pink blood
As it fills my face until
I’m pulsing smiles of mute desire
Left so desperately unfulfilled
Forgetting is not a choice
Or disappointment would somehow cage me
All in cheap metallic bird-cage bars
This attempt
With odes of love muttered out
Like vague threats
Empty of affection
Lacking any consequence
No changes in my flesh or pace
But I am nearing my perfection
Eliminating recollections this bad run
And the details are exposed
Like flesh torn off from frostbite
To reveal a dazzling red

I don’t pray
I dance
On the bar-room floor and under
Dimly sparkling paintings and Irish flags
And all the fragments I’ve forced out
Assemble from the best and cleanest
Corners of myself
And my scientific hands sweep over
The wrecks of former prototypes
Magnetizing what is worthy to remain
Discarding all the left-over unhealthiness
Post-traumatic-stress medallions burned
With maximum sterility
And I am born again
Ice and winter under my feet and there is a Reggae hymnal
Across the street the Church bells
Inside the folded napkins
I become my best-self’s hologram
In a fortified transition
Over into worthiness
No one can tame me
Or my New Year

I don’t pray
I love my family
In a hangover shared
Sister and I take the reins
A snowy walk through past rivalry
Yields only Freudian metaphor
That to us does not make sense
Though we carefully guard our personal complexes
As well as shared regrets
For what I’ve put us through
High school trials and rumors vanquished
My gallantry
Big eyed beauty
Forever to be my pride’s most renewable resource
Like the forests and creeks
Of our natural youth
In prairie wilderness
When we finally share the spot-light
My finger demonstrates just where
To go
And tie and yellow ribbon around it.