days go
by
like cars
go by
like days
go
by like
cars go
by
like days
go by
like
cars go
by in fashion
in form in
unison in
seconds

awake to repeat
on time
today as skeletons
flame contagion
bright against
your ripe apple

again arranging
your pattern to
fit   /   feed
the mouth sloppy
below bit-beady
black holes

born from a splitting
ache in the back-left of my head
like a drill bit whirring in an empty paint can.

i'd give you pearls for hands my love,
ever-winter washing over our foaming cerulean eyescapes.  

inside your drums I hear
a pulse that cries for
hips and thorns entangled
under your
navel.  

one more summer breath from lung to lung
exchanged
under moonlight for the promise of elevation.  
you are not
who you say you are
my dear - you are a
future memory
stalking sweetly today under the guise
of novel pleasure , but time will
reveal your skin to me
under the electric lavender
of my
eyelids.

you are wood grain
and strata -
born too, it seems, from a splitting.

ring the
bell
crystal chime
shimmers

ring the
bell
my mind is
a stallion

ring the
bell
to all the people
that at least tried to
love me

ring the
bell
break like the ocean
against the cliff

ring the
bell
and watch every
crown melt

ring the
bell
and bless your
enemies

ring the
bell
and fade away

ring the
bell
you are no
more

ring the
bell
you never were

ring the bell
    your time
     was here
     was now
     was yours

did you drink it deeply

did you try

every moment
was treasure
every moment
was fleeting
every moment
was hiding
every moment
was yours
every moment
was beautiful


like first
heartbreak


like a crying
child


like a
predator



like sleep





ring the bell then and
rest

your smile
was here





and it had
more power
than all
the gods

to fall
once more
under
the pen
of a failed
poet

do your
knees shake?

does your
spine tingle
when
you
think of me?

                                         . . . do you think of me?

   -  ha!
I'm still running
that
groove deeper
into the ground

it only works
if you want
it too

(it's only
ever been
me that
wanted it)

when you
get drunk
and get
all the attention
from
all those
room temperature
knuckle-draggers,
do you ever
regret
heaving
me back
into the night?

do you ever
think, " I ****** up, he was unlike
                     any man i've ever known, he really cared
                           about me."







no







you don't




I think
it for you

for me

to feel
better about
myself





and you?
well,


you're not alone
somewhere

busy not
writing poetry
about me

sent you
a
call
from a
space
no one
knows.

I long for the days of
no man.

here, I
could
stay
forever,
gleaning
endless
insight from
this tree
moving in
the wind.

no romance has ever
shown me such wisdom.

no human has ever
displayed such power.

yet,
somewhere
there is a
movement
that escapes
me,

that escapes
us all.


may it always be so.

another page

with words

on it.


     another extraction

     from , spilling

     free.  ashes from


                ritual to the

                dexter , projections

                of intimacy to

                the sinister.


                           this space does

                           not allow

                           anything and yet

                           is open to everything.





a lightning strike



s  l  o  w  e  d



to  the



length



of  a



l  i  f  e  t  i  m  e  ,







happening

behind your eyes.


     the circuit is

     already complete.


but not fate , not

          determined , not

                         catenary.



don't you remember ?




you already let go.

"what, you're too good to say 'good morning' to me?"
     she asks me as she slumps through
     the front doors of work.

"no."
     I say,
"you didn't hear me say it back?"
     . . . she didn't.

some people try
     to drag everything
into their own collapsing
     star.

     but I brush it off and
               walk away, successfully
          escaping her gravitational
               pull.

later, minding my own
     ****-stick, she fires another
     shot,
     "you sure have a chip on your shoulder today,  I'm staying out
     of your way!"

this time I don't
even acknowledge
                         her **** bird trying
                         to land on me,
                                                  just smile right
                                                  through her.





I turn my
head to
look
outside.  

the smeared
clouds are
rippling in
a smooth cadence
of anticipation.  



a storm is coming . . .
it's gonna be a good one.