“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.

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“Whatever Could Make This Follow”

10 Apr

“Whatever Could Make this Follow”

Pass into the seams of your house

puss into those flowers:

a trickster with thick glasses

becomes another shadow

a fox barks, tipping his elf hat

we were warm and tidy

and so time sped us by

not even time for the hangmen’s

clean linen licked suit

the slit of a thousand burrs

because we’re scared

we had to pee together

we hid there a thousand times

and all marshaled a phenomenal evening

back when we slept deeply,

tilled soils deeply,

tomorrowed to the heavens deeply

the stars’ phantoms for you

the ridge of a cage,

sometimes a blue jay,

a cardinal in snow

they hatched you in a locket,

an alien being’s carcass,

once spurned in military regalia

at a shotgun wedding

between mutant forces,

the three-headed shark

and electricity beast,

emerging on our realm,

long enough to flash a picture

with a memory blade to prove she exists, boatswain of darkness,

stranger in mint,

to octopus girls

as if someday

you’d be a famous scientist

filled with dinosaur blood

could ruin this winter’s

soul’s solicitors

we were inchoate

inside a scalding teapot

at a witch’s house

whether your whims deceive you

blind lemons for blondes

whatever could make this follow.

“Pretend You Were Here”

9 Apr

“Pretend You Were Here”

To prove you exist

olives rain down

allowing berries to encircle your belly

and dances commend

your shadow above our trees to fall

through crowns of prickers

a city hot and terrible

in this light

brought together by the most evil work

our hands alive with wires in a foundry

an exploded view of the map

leads us to pick cherries

from the hands of birds

and street signs

with their limericks torn off

to peel back the sardine can

and chase the cat

inside the canary,

to bedevil the juke joints

with our glasses raised

as werewolves hide their feet

to be spied through sunglasses

whose soiled mind is too heavy for the bleachers, a beastly competition

cars scratching fleas

the wolves can see nor catch us

and though we run faster than the trees

they nip with wolf prints fast fogged suffocating under plastic

slats of a boat

between you and the view

I carve a stone pony

your poetry

“Mementoes or Memories”

3 Apr

“Mementoes or Memories”

How many years

drift with algae for thousands of years

if even machines fall asleep

and a song drags through my fingers

pointing to a painting

to be burned in the morning

for colorful irises

dyed by a winter wind

on the blamed island,

singing songs to know one

party dresses bathed in blood

and curtsies torn from a cue book

of haunting plays, sinister soundtracks

lemons to hand you photos lemon-scent

your wedding sun,

you don’t remember doing the dishes

all those nightshirts or the jobs laying steamrolling vegetable prints on your table clothes,

but you do remember birthdays

and the special chandeliers

licking your diamonds in the glinting light

sundresses and ladybugs

bathing suits and severed hands:

what remains

for poetry to destroy forever.

“We Were Friends”

30 Mar

“We Were Friends”

Dove the sandy hair

said goodbye

to dust of river

you were deadly as an artist

when we were friends

when I’d lick the crushed strawberry

from your jeans

then I’d let a dinosaur could eat you:

we were friends

veined in blue

we’ll never reach an understanding

and now it’s time to go again

we were friends

to travel dark caves

and place of dew

a place I knew

so these were our lives

passing in a kissing flame

poisoned butterflies

riding the backbone of this dream again

across the coast of you

hold my hand through the starry end

we were friends

a sprinkled dead and every rainbow sets

your honed fine senses to bloodthirst

a bursting star crown

we rode beasts with leather stirrups,

haunted leather pumpkins

our slipper footsteps

we were friends in the dying rain

the name of your friends

when poetry killed you

this line of sentiment

a butcher’s fox tail

burrowed deep into Snow Mountain

can ever the freckles release the he-burette holding too much pity

and only in some yearbook

were we perfect and young

but already dusty.

“Everything is an Angel”

23 Mar

“Everything is an Angel”

Wake up the two o’clock hoof

dance the mildew, tracking basements

field mice thaw

to love the sound of cracking bug

vertebrae down your throat

to give the quiet never frilly rested

desperado in dessert chains, charmed

found the velvet killers’ gloves

on a monster farm

where girls shine on t.v.,

their gold belts

through the silver birds

their life lines crossed with love veins

if soirées could bless the demons

the razor light

to cotton the red of barns,

strawberry apples:

I met you in a refrigerated laundromat

beside a crystal boyfriend,

as if frozen liquid

machinery cries

hands made of kitchen sinks

could cold

somebody else’s joy by blowing by

unless your dress were to fray

the letters tied to bows

the river’s sleet

bloodied to carnations

all the drunken promises flapping

to rose bodies torn fingers

everything is an angel

when hideous times

when everything is an angel

when vipers to families

the poisoned puppets’ hands

squeezing the dew

smoothed fabric to nothing

the heat of your mark

chants the skeletons foresee

nimble horns, skewed fingernails

sawn-off twilights, ripples in plaster

ghost’s voice spells shrunken heads

blamed saints,

still woven to news stories

strength to cut anew

path through life

beyond every shadow world’s

lost shoeboxes

life glows evil in thatched obelisks.

“Moonlight Spoils Vermont”

19 Mar

“Moonlight Spoils Vermont”

There was something clean about the way you speared me,

something sacred of the blood

filtering through my gills

while my gull filled with hair pie meat

and wriggling newts

diseased dream teeth

scattering me away over crowns,

horizons, bleached princess terror tiaras

deadly vipers, scream kisses

I don’t believe in you

is contagious

as spilling milk, ghost sheets,

treacherous highways, wooded phantoms

dialing with too many gold rings,

lipstick on costume lapels,

cucumbers sliced to their blood gurgling,

glory through the future you

our future too, waving the grasslands

the palm sucking last right meal morsels

the dorsal fin

daffodils call your name

somewhere in the past

was all scattered spiders of a dream

and it wasn’t even a eulogy.

“I Wish You to Celebrate Too”

16 Mar

“I Wish You To Celebrate Too”

Bend every paycheck until it breaks,

the sound it’s time to celebrate

enveloped, a man in a corner

snakes, lips on the wall,

scars in the sky

the cat’s of footsteps in the house

the size: a mountain lion,

my love for you in all time

ride a fly horse through the window frame

the ceiling-stink of another hallway

down the back streets of your namesake

tethered to another brain

of mildewed sea captains

and hopeful yellow galoshes

and hats to turn a bright star mint

soft slippers through dreams

read between the linen

dark poachers explode pouches

explorers committed to the cave

roof footsteps

the splendid cut of meat.

“That’s the Thing About Us”

9 Mar

“That’s the Thing About Us”

The I’m-sorry-s could cut a thin strip

a pirate’s cutlass, caught shaving

on the plank

you anymore:

that’s the thing about us.

That’s the thing about us:

when love gloves in phantoms

rainy fountains under green night suns

thunderstorm birthdays

clues rot beneath drawbridges

a mystery arrives, bitten

flesh removed to the bone

but we’re having a pillow party

chained ear to ear:

that’s the thing about us.

When the wind whistles

through the streets

and excites the flagpoles

of our seaside town

my uncle beneath the meat wagon

your butterflies

to exercise your thighs,

yet we’re still cheerful ghosts

even when motorcycles screech to halts

and halter-tops breech

electric fog perimeters

green dots on a video game grid

holding hands through a thousand years

of inhaled, bone-chipped stardust:

that’s the thing about us.

Thin azaleas walk by

a psycho train providing blue milk

on a vast desert,

sharing our knife wounds

struggling to trust:

that’s the thing about us.

“Tiger Liars”

5 Mar

“Tiger Liars”

Forever this stamp

the folds of your heartthrob

once upon a time

this desert was you

watching the iron ball

throb in a silk waterfall

through miserable seas

I’ve travelled in hollowed-out ogres

boats for wooden oceans

deer eyes, shielding the ferns

and all these sadness raindrops,

a windowsill with a dusty horse

neighing and sputtering

and traveling light:

only a cane and a suitcase,

only a hat and a green dove

for the parrots to fall in love with

calling me ever again

to brush my hair away

until wigs and manikins should stare

and ball bettings slide

to the roof of your ice pop.