fine sliver of dawn crawls
through cloud, through boughs;
here, a punctuation by curtain-
hole. song in seven beaked
tongue, held tender in
imperfection. notes carved of
century's trickle. dreams swell
down to quick: dilate through
signatures of some familiar
reality. diluting in the
effervescence of waking
thought. only ever dreamt in
colours of you, out under fields
of stars. oh!, to lay down fresh
tracks; on& ahead to meadows,
to sleep.

made a fool in case,
jest in case the tide
turns i can't say
anything& it's slowly
eroding cliff faces. caught
run on to shiver under
swathes of light i
desert the anxious encompassing
my own grip on this spinning
confusion
and oh,
how light hangs about you in
motion i am too deep here i
am too gone the
desk lamp goes cold my own world follows
this chaos in breach
this pattern to fold
under

Don't.

they emerge from the wooded neighborhood ridge and fringe at dusk
into breadth of lawn
& limb.
witchy chicks
casting banter n bitchcraft.
teenage dead end dreamers tipped in black magick lip gloss
& glitter, their
genderfluid familiars &/or wayward boyfriends apparate
in the street pink cloud spinning wheel,
& hawking bile.
****** stella smile.
swallow a hex, send a snap, tongue along his neck
promising to fold bodies before sunrise.
the effervescent gasp
of post-ritual clarity.

in the house,
is a kid.
a gig.
the devil with a younger grip.
& the kid thrills on a bit of the ol’
         u l t r a v i o l e n c e.
****** videogames, ****** anime, ****** mayhem n melodic music.
he is a conduit of dark energy.
a pure blooded offering of the stone age/video age,
mind in a kind of kaleidoscopic way.
he is me.
bred on televised bucket slime ceremonials.

she checks her purse.
drugs & snacks & juul & a pretty dead bird.
a daughter of delphi watching your kid.
tending to him.
trending him.
popcorn smelling him, the texas chainsaw massacre on vhs just before bed.
palace of teeth n twigs.
just a short walk to the edge and then its bath time.

             the demon version is grisly and cruel.
             the angel version is starry-eyed and adventurous.

to conjure some
  thing,
at the cliff jumping.
it was fun.

sugar, you know
i hurt just as
much.

...and i woke up, and
my motion persists, my
trailing light- split to trail-
lines, to curl out and line
up with your perfect
skin. imperfect smile, love,
it is invisible to all eyes:
shaking and glistening, i'd
give it all, for one simple quivering
moment spent with you. just
one photograph with palms
aligned. eyes alight. alas, for all
this is but nothing. all a ploy, you're
finding affection in patterns in
static, monumental, clawing eagerly
through the dark; here, it's high
noon. and i'm stone sober, and
missing you like malfunctioning
lungs. i haul breath to roll your
syllables over my tastebuds, again
more broken
glass down the back of my
skull just to steal a thought away
from inscrutable you. oh, honey,
the things i'd do...