Build a rocketship,
fly out of the atmosphere,
live among the stars.

Honey I'm drunk,
Don't come by,
But if you do
Bring Canadian Rye;
I've two feet planted
Six feet high,
And I ain't right ready
To lay down to die.
But the sun is sinking,
And my body's stinking,
Honey will you come,
Please bring that Rye.

Honey, I drink,
We both know why,
Let's not pretend,
Let's not lie.

Honey I'm dry,
I'm gonna die,
I've six feet planted
Two feet high.
I ain't quite steady,
I could use a high.
The sun's in the east,
My demon's a beast,
So Honey drop by,
Please bring that Rye.

i.

those velvet hands curled around my glass throat
but i laughed at the pretty little splinters
that would pierce your delicate fingers
while my fractured shards scattered
across your marble floor
sparkling
shattered -- fragmented --
broken

ii.

my ashen core melted into your blazing sorry
and crept up into the narrow
crevices of your collarbone -- an exodus
for this bloodless being
and this cold coffee has never before tasted
so empty
so tired
so gone
so much like

iii.

this galaxy -- you should try it, maybe
i escape instantly into
an astral tenderness and silly little
constellations like the ones you used to trace
on my starlit waist while we smiled about
nothing & everything & skin
                                       & skin
                                       & skin

the slime of all my yesterdays
rots in the hollow of my skull

and if my stomach would contract
because of some explicable phenomenon
such as pregnancy or constipation

I would not remember you

or that because of sleep
infrequent as a moon of greencheese
that because of food
nourishing as violet leaves
that because of these

and in a few fatal yards of grass
in a few spaces of sky and treetops

a future was lost yesterday
as easily and irretrievably
as a tennis ball at twilight

Something
cold is in the air,
an aura of ice
and phlegm.
All day I've built
a lifetime and now
the sun sinks to
undo it.
The horizon bleeds
and ***** its thumb.
The little red thumb
goes out of sight.
And I wonder about
this lifetime with myself,
this dream I'm living.
I could eat the sky
like an apple
but I'd rather
ask the first star:
why am I here?
why do I live in this house?
who's responsible?
eh?

i will wade out
                        till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
                                       Alive
                                                 with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
                                       in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
                                            Will i complete the mystery
                                            of my flesh
I will rise
               After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
             And set my teeth in the silver of the moon