Thursday, December 20, 2007
To visit places where there are no hosts
at night
moon-shot through air pure water
no matter
how cold it must be where
today
finding oneself at odds with
the night, doing what is
(absolutely) necessary evils;
smoke breath,
chalk breath,
talk less,
talk about what loves you,
talk like time stops
when you say "pause"
or when you kneel to pray
or lie to sleep
and lay where comfort
takes you by surprise
(one is frequently).
When lightbulb talks yellow aged newspapers, take
and turn it to love
or lost love.
Trap that breath on
your lips, those lips though lips
may be dry
(one is frequently)
and there you watch
the air pure water breath rest
and there you lay your head
in an unfamiliar bed
where word mumbled under
is then tossed over
and lost to the night.
Thank that man,
thank that lady;
they, so prepared to speak,
hold in their crowd
of dusk cloud
and say
"Time does not 'pause'
nor will it ever
stop."
Monday, December 17, 2007
Everything is as it seems
I’m going out tonight,
a zombie on the streets.
Decked in black jeans,
a sweatshirt,
and headband from nineteen ninety eight
back then.
I used to even ski!
And in these clothes
I will feast.
On passerbys.
Others will watch and think
we’re just pretending.
But, I won’t be kidding,
I will eat.
In an attempt to calm me.
A bite of them and I will be forgiven
in the name of Jesus. Amen.
My victims will experience martyrdom.
Be seated, sir, at the right hand of our lord.
I will be forgiven.
In the name of Jesus, I feast.
For I’m eating thee with regards of the spirit.
Welcome to my church.
Your body is my temple
and to this I pray.
Amen.
Now say thirty Hail Marys
For now I eat.
A city full of sin,
Of gays,
And bars,
And junkies.
I won’t have trouble.
I will find my congregation
Ten Bloody Marys deep.
Thy will be medium rare,
On earth as it is at dinner,
Amen.
I will eat
I will raze the trash bins
and pick out everything
behind maternity wards.
Unborn,
like a demon.
And I will be forgiven
and seated, with respect.
In my vicious martyrdom,
of which you’ll all be victims,
I am forgiven
My acts are justified
for I am legion.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
kicking water when nothing's a better feeling than anything
you breath in as she puts her hands around your neck
choking you till you cant feel it anymore
kicking water when nothing's a better feeling than anything
veins bulge and struggle to push blood through them
you wonder why they were ever there at all
and maybe theyre just lazy
and maybe theyve been beaten down
but I'm not breathin' with phantom all white and naked
and everythings just alright with me
Friday, December 7, 2007
For John Donne
and dirt.
It smells of sweat, we both,
but it brushes against my cheek
as his dried lips
cracked from the sand-heavy wind
Brush against mine.
No miracle,
but warmth and strength.
His hands are hardened from
carpentry and magic
and they slide up my back
but he is short and they
barely reach my shoulders
I bend my head further.
His tongue tastes of gristle
and raw grains.
There is a sense of acceptance
in the movement of his lips
on
mine.
No miracle,
but human skin that sweats
the same warmth
and scent.
He has decided not to change my life.
His chin and nose are pronounced,
the nose rubs gently
against the flesh just under my eye-
sockets, eyes closed, I can see
when they open,
a short man, carpenter,
he smiles.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Upon awakening, i tell my dreams to someone else
the other times you left me.
time has never warranted this,
the lavender song has lost its time and scent.
i will grow a large beard
and rough you up
to forget my childish ways.
i have learned to isolate my fantasies.
~
you think you can hammer out
your indiscretions on an anvil of pulp.
let me have time to lick my wounds
like the god that i am.
~
it’s comforting when she says,
“you can’t like me as much as i like you.”
in my insecurity, i know it’s true.
it’s cold and the gas won’t be turned on
for another week. she was right,'
this bed can’t be slept in alone.