April 29 2009

1
the fuckers who made this mess
me slip and fall on wet green tiles
wet-sock misery and a limp but
somehow that day ended

2
two cats play
in soft fog
light's journey
tunnels
we see
picking poppy seeds from the teeth
and sharpest night
calmed with a cushion of
wet air
edible night
night gathered in our hands
and tugged
night to stuff inside
our pocket
large slabs of night
break off, slip into the lake
as we waltz under its
cupola
ringing like bells

3
rainbow scar, the uncertain talons
of a beauty queen she
stifles in the third row a band
of black glass across her forehead
little hairs creep up her forearms
boys notice the rainbow scar
the skin around the under arm she
sighs into a patch of purple
the vision reviewed before bed

4
and there is a summer
a long distance
under which the sun kneads
our skin like dough
a distance and a time
we measure against
the backs of our arms
we press against
heavy glass
but everything goes
the same speed
our flat tan skin
against the glass

5
the birds sing all night
we busted the screen out
my mom loves the doctor
and putting on makeup
she blushed when i asked her
if the doctor
out the busted open window
the house to myself
my room
damp corners i unfold
myself and my corners
feast on what the open window
kisses in
i think about jobs and hand jobs
somewhere in the future
and my mom loves the doctor
and my future is what rolls
through the window the birds
sing about it and i construct
the setting of the hand job modest
of course and relax in my humble beginnings
as mom dabs
her lips with tissue for the doctor
and i fill my room with shreds
of my self