“Time to Fit into These Rags Anymore”

11 Apr

“Time to Fit into These Rags Anymore”

The dead side of a spaceship

which landed on our lawn some years ago

a lonely wind to make us stay

through grass blades

and sways this sash

a lie and wunderkind to find,

lingerie and wine

and trails the drapes to soda ash

the footsteps disappear

we ask for backstage passes

and secret tissues, the twilight manacled

to roller skate blindfolded

the flaming hog’s body

we were girlfriends again

all in our ghost bodies,

missing patches of hair,

scars interwoven

the deserter’s cane

blew diamonds across the desert

and all falls the secret knowledge

triumphant in the rain

of sad rosaries warped by presents

and so you flew away

never wanting to wake again

the gladiolas, the burnt persimmon, precious as blood carriages

carrying the harvested bodies

from the spacecraft,

this dimension betwixt others

or a thousandfold strained violence

birds carry away throats,

leather gloves turn to silver gloves

and velvet glove believers

sheds in this nightmare town

where every steeple sits ready to slash,

and all neighbors wait

glaring at their microphones,

the cold inner suns reflecting

the glint of gold teeth,

marmalade infested with insects

who want your name in blood

roads the infernal travelled down

tied rosy pillows to the pink of unhealthy pale horses,

and whose tail pinned you too:

that all changed

nobody knows anymore

and all the rest moved away.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: