Friday, October 15, 2010

Moon Moths, Slugs, and Insects

"So steadily moves the solemn procession"
-Andrew Carnegie

Nothing if not
the feelings of sunny afternoons
when blinds draw to breathe
loose teeth in dreams.

Good sex!
says the third condom
sobered enough to get hard
after a massacre of foreplay
written on a bathroom stall
in Denver.

Made up like an eating disorder,
roadside or not,
I attempt a lost earring
for two years and six months
I named my microwave Montana
for it being easier to navigate
than an oven,
stove, or the distance between want
and a loathing to be clean.

A footnote in military history:
Terrorism should be a bomb.
It was a european beach
in the nineteen-forties
until i moved from the bed
to a futon in a windowless room

where dark but expecting
the stark moon a raven,
where I your young
bemoaning stomach aches

Feed me