don-brennerWhisper

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FlightTonight I am an astronaut / in between an old woman / who smells like ink, sudoku, and urine,
37
Apr 26, 2011
Addicted to Booze, Drugs, You, and Forgetting the Best DreamsShe gets high. / I get high. / She gets drunk.
24
Mar 18, 2011
Hung Like ThisI have never seen a body turn from life to corpse / hung from a chapel or tree / or a two year old girl stop breathing
26
Mar 18, 2011
ThawThaw / Today I cause erosion / I angle sand once perpendicular
31
Mar 15, 2011
Facedown Elvis at One AMSometimes I wonder why / I write and what the reason is / for breaks and lapses in words
30
Mar 11, 2011
Hey Mom, I Can Swear!it rained yesterday / and i spent / three hundred dollars
33
Mar 11, 2011
Inches Above SoilThe most sexual colors / exist in flowers. / In orange lily
20
Oct 11, 2010
The Night Before the Day of the DeadRubber faces. Foreheads sweat, stream clown makeup when cheeks meet. Sweet blood: corn syrup, water, starch. Lick then smell. Vampires pick jolly rancher debris from teeth. Blue fangs. A skeleton in the closet undresses a nun. Open door open window sit three cats. Watch the sun set. Crows murdered around oak trees. Darkness. Lights, music, karaoke, Elvis sings Franki Valli. Richard Nixon gropes a slutty nurse. Left hand, right breast. Alcohol permeates air. Skin, sweat. Touch. Marilyn Monroe hoards candy corn souped with beer broth in her stomach. Passes out. Steve Irwin wears a sting ray through his chest, erect tail through his shirt, surrounded in blood. First place in the costume contest. Alter egos. Fred Flintstone feels snubbed. So does a saran wrapped girl. Nipples hidden with black fabric circles. Black balloons. Orange ones. Red balloons. Popped. Silent girl in white stands in the corner. Caresses a small bottle of cyanide in her fingers. Thumb, middle, pointer, pointed at Marilyn. She knows she will not wake up. They’ll call it suicide. Elvis finishes his song in a falsetto, / Oh, what a night.
16
Oct 5, 2010
As a Woman in SalemIf I was a witch / I would split the Earth / thousands of miles away
31
Oct 5, 2010
While Chickens are BeheadedI sit and pick seedlings from the earth like chicken from my teeth. My eyes stay closed. I feel the green of maple seeds, crashed helicopters. I smell death. Behind me he slaughters chickens. Stretches their necks on a tree stump. Butcher knife guillotine. Heads pile in a once white bucket. I pick my teeth blind. / Birds in nests and worms / in birds in nests sing songs
9
Oct 5, 2010
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