It crawled through her bones
like a slow fever, knocking knees
1/21
Kissed her ivory hips
as if I was tickling the black keys
of a piano.
They’re the odd ones
you say
but so are we.
Giggling through the howls
of a Tom Waits song as if
we’re in on it too.
After tinkering with keys
you’ve got nothing left to play.
So douse the piano in gasoline.
Flame licked legs and dripping veneer.
Snapped strings in and out of tune.
Every piano fire burns this way.
Every piano fire ends this way.
The explosion
The confusion of the fog
of the fire extinguisher.
Grit teeth and white heat.
The piano is broken,
but we’ll get another one.
12/13
We danced in perfect time
while we told our crooked lies
and smiled golden promises
between our rusted lips.
Nothing was perfect
and everything violent
in the linen landscapes
of your single cell.
=====================
I’m not sad. I just saw some sad images in my head while listening to some music.
12/8
Cover your bodies
in sweat,
in tattoos.
Cover your bodies
in ink
with ideas,
ideas your tired tongues
would repeat forever
if they could.
Cover your bodies
in flesh,
in each other.
‘Cause you don’t burn
as bright
alone.
12/4
You’d get lost
in her fractals.
Staring for hours
trying to figure out
her equation.
This was the act
of staring
in
to her eyes.
Her infinity.
3/1/10
Days of old when threads weren’t cheap Drive-in theaters and take-out sex Thunder moans and lightning bites jolting the earth. But it’s not always like that at the lookout
Tom Waits is at the fire extinguisher and ivory keys
Picked lock pick-me-ups
and robbed cabinets.
Take the Liquor. Leave the guns.
My mouth’s a loose trigger to begin with.
The city lookout looses its scenery at night
There’s nothing but blinking lights, blurred vision
and a couple trapped behind fogged station wagon windows.
We’re just ex-kings and ex-queens
Princes and princesses pimped out and pandering
because we’re told to.
“Rain’s coming. Go inside.”
No. I want to stay and drink it up
because it makes me feel useful
instead of used up when she leaves.
“Yeah, you like that? How about here?”
She’s so heavy, man.
And if you get it just right
all through the grain and the rum,
Levees break and cries go up:
“Oh, baby. Hold on!”
where the ground lies fallow
relationships begin and end in the back of a Chevy Nova
That’s “No go” in Spanish, cats.
Oh, sorry. I mean gatos.
But, we’re ex-kings and ex-queens
sipping and dripping drinks
lamenting Yoricks, Ophelias, and Romeos lost
“Get inside. The storm’s coming.”
No, man.
You mean the earth.
Listen to her.
Fits
Raucous noise
swinging our heads against
hour hands.
Beats and nouns against time.
Sweat drenched smiles
tasting like oceans
between our
teeth.
Rust in hand
rust on strings.
We broke our guitars.
Screaming.
These are fits.
10/3
At low tide
the ships’ skeletal remains
were oft mistaken
for the leviathans
who could bear the depths no more.
Hips
Boredom sets in.
9/1
She painted her blues on the brick of back alleys of the city
where gutters ran red with rust and sick
and drunks were thrown out of their churches
white knuckles clutching knees.
Even at the bottom
there is color.
Can’t Sleep
I could break you
with a song
that used to echo
from your stereo
across from the field
of linen sheets
where your lips trembled
with beggars’ gasps
for charity.
8/3
Once upon a time
I was happy when I wrote this
happy to be homeless
happy that I shed my wants
I lived simply as I should
as a simple human being.
Fallen Stars
Took the sparks in your eyes
right in my mouth
when I kissed
your eyelids.
Planted them back
on your skin
as freckles -
An astronomer’s new map.
Numbered Days
Where there is laughter,
you will find me
dancing
towards death.
