i blew a rose from its sour petals
and felt the fold of its velvet lips,
encircling close around my sight,
smother me with its endless kiss
i felt it go when my hands held on
and muttered wishes against my goodbyes
it slipped like maps from parapets
and fluttered down to the ground from high
i keep the rain in mason jars
and tap its sides on arid days,
counting droplets down its walls in
my wish that all the passed would stay.
that no one ever wants to fall in love,
despite the deadly call of siren’s falls from across the
murky silent depths offending
bridges and seeking lives to claim with
the driving sighs that rend our minds
and upset the carts that would have held
our precious fruits and grains, all of which goes let off,
soaking in the river’s walls, down the mountain path and carving
ruts along my back
now permanent frost, tomorrow i can smile
wide and radiate like shoots of the sun
breathing through the cracks in the clouds sluggishly lugging
across the ovoid firmament, swarming the crowd with
puffs and struggles that bring them from day to day and back again
i am just so nicely stained
and relaxed in fit against some grain
by shepherds’ flocks they slow maintain
the shearing wind their fleece enflame
in curls and knots, some miles high
the clouds whirled by mills touch
errant sky,
propriety reflect upon
my generic eyes
jeremiad sought in so
few lines
come get the new remove
clean like shadows, from wall
to wall,
in made-up eyes and glib lips proved
the next year’s echoes
from down the hall.
SWEET RAGE sustains me, crisp from the lick of
silent flames that drip black from sieves of steel and flesh
and renew the force of my contempt.
for the piddling price of a quiet corner
are Prometheuses finally free,
gleefully indulging their lust for fantasy
and violent visions chiefly wherein
more miserable rubes fall from and under
the crumbling towers of
their own ruin.
sleep lightly by your lies to spend
on days where loose tongues betray
their whims, flaunting vice and all your sins
before they find their refuse bins as fuel for future retribution.
a vague, swirling depiction
of slow motion dying in a smile
crooked so beautifully, all
tucked into the corner of its cheeks snugly,
wonderfully wrapped up and
all in saddest commercial ever,
which
almost whispered the colors it
loomed around the shadows of the room
to sink the walls with differing rays
and bless us all with
natural eyes to blink
and simply drink it in for days
curling misery, i steep the
slow synch of my sleeping brain in
curves and words that wrap my feet and
bind my sides in splitting refrains, like toothy laughter
conjured up with fences and shrubs, dimly lighting,
spreading on these sheets and streets like rusted cargo trains
in heat,
so i can feel the back of my teeth
and slowly go insane.
who knew? that you, she said,
can get sick
/w me to kill
too
the rainy sat.s
i watch run by in puddle drips
till things get dry—
or sick to die.
tonight, besides,
in shallow waters and lights—
i’ll have flashbacks in front of these
weekday dreams, from when we
hit-the-bars-in-style like
quick flips through shiny magazines.
golly touched my consumption
mister weakly leaves and falls off the branch
to quote leather vests the devil’s dance
cold movements the sheets
beneath the seeded green—
red paper flags,
the devil’s dream
up and stood against a bare backdrop
with a steamy thigh high smile
colored in by context, style, gums and diction—
only remembering the puke paisley dreams of the sun settled
on the edge of where his vision stretched—
damn curved world—
cursed, and now still sick with worry.
please, we plead,
give me a second day to sort the honey from the tea
and compute all this
disorienting nonsense
