What.

He ate out my heart and threw it up.
Poison lungs, poison veins-
****.

Viscera numbed, spined eels wriggle,
I am ******.

****** as in : a shut-in, swain of Gehenna, rocked, rolled.
He needed more rope for his net and so cut out my tendons.

What skies to worship now? What skins?

You walk through the sands,
an eclipse red in the sky.
A temple lies at hand,
Wherein truth reveals the lie.

Two figures block the door,
you release a note.
Whatever lies in store,
may be your last hope.

A book lies on an altar,
also a chalice of clear substance.
Your heart beats faster and harder,
so full of suspense.

You open the cover gently,
the pages crinkle with age.
Alas,
Each sheet was empty,
same on every page.

In confusion you look around,
Eyes falling on the reflection in the cup.
Now your truth has been found,
But the news has your heart sunk...

Water drips
timing seconds
one by one
light to dark
lay me to sleep
give me playbook as a pillow
cover me with old papers
whіsреr me headlines
breathe deeper
move slower
crawl closer
stay longer
discomb my eyebrow
grasp the wrong elbow
mess sugar with pepper
till the next season come

ten wings on five
black birds
sitting together
on the mulberry tree
set flight
all at once
startled
just one set of wings
the ones
on the woodpecker
his *******
stayed
pecking
as
the stealthy yellow
and white striped cat
clawed her way up the bark
closing distance
he just kept at it
some insect
peckpeckpeck
or the wood itself
and the cat her claws
driven into the bark almost
at the same intensity
rose almost to the limb
that held the peckerheaded
intenseness
of the stalked in
his one-sighted business,
as the cat,
on the limb below ,
close close as breath quickened
back arched
hunched
woody flew off.
***** willowed, scented the
limb the ****
crack of the *******
and
licked her paw.
No loss.
There is always
tomorrow.

She arched, and peeled
a red plum into my
mouth, including
the ragged pit;

though she had the charm
of a pumice stone, I did
not spit or complain.

He was a champion boxer
turned alcoholic
who wandered

east and west
on the town’s
railroad tracks

until death;

after his funeral
his wife spent
her days knitting

and thumbing through
newspaper clippings
awaiting her husband’s

return.

In every American state
county and town

women walk barefoot
on broken glass

looking for an
open door.