Car doors, bricks, a drill press,
I’ve broken my hands thousands of times
because I’m afraid of what they can do.
Seizures of black and white photos,
sixteen millimeter film. Flash,
flash and framed in spider-leg light.
Smile falsely and the piano hammers
unbearably loud. Is it a stream of blood
or a forgotten plant’s winged roots?
When I die broken-hearted, bandages
will muffle the paradise I choke
from your electric fence, but know
that I knocked, open-mouthed
in pearly rain. Your Christmas cactus will bloom
fluorescent, terrible beauties will appear
on the orphaned child’s tongue.
Last Night, I Died In My Sleep
Morning was blessed with forgetting,
a compromise of horns & blue clingings.
Your riot of happiness leaves me
lonely, kicking garbage cans
in an fire-lit alley. Remember the times
dried blood from a bit thigh could save?
The dogs are moaning one hit wonders.
You must be stuck upside down on a rollercoaster
or imagine yourself, eyes closed, mouth to mouth.
You must salivate thinking about what could be.
A cold pillow & solar-power.
Soon, you’ll have no need for me.
From Hallelujah Blackout
Shivering, we rock the reverie, sickly in bonfire-light
Barking disbelief. Hope’s hoarfrost wind, the spine-leafed trouble
Faces are hammered into belief
O my venomous twin, the operator lisps, I’m going down undressed
Is it not my whore-sweet sun? Is it still a sin at this hour?
Another blink, another belief
The outline is chalked in fall’s slack light
The crocodile’s goodbye-eye rides low
Within and within and without
In the swamp, velvet. A mob of herons crow in belief
Of figure. Of begotten thought. This is underhanded and potent
This is a satiny absolute. Beneath a ruin of plate-glass
All that remains of the grasshopper is a stain of belief
The model bares himself; or better yet, breaks into a garden of ripened shapes
Consciousness touches its lips in sorrow
An object passes from maw into belief
The sky opens in a violent holiday: the gift was meant to be jasmine
The self fucks furiously and the tractor shudders
And, furthermore and perfect again—scarecrows are mugged for belief
Drowning won’t do it in the shallows. It won’t bring rain
Cleanliness, or an I’ll-look-up-to-you self
Forgotten under the moon’s lapel, the glowworm achieves disbelief