In flight, cloud pours winged ink,
feathered in atmospheric caption,
in and out, as a cursor blinks,
gliding portal-- ground casting.

a falling feather stroking air,
day's mind--now nigrescence,
torch waving in drip drop lair,
corvid "kaaw"--all sides pressing.

blackness: it is infinite cursive,
folded 'round a writer's eyes.
A hearse' undulating curtain,
the wings-- as the crow flies.
*
sound of the internal chasm,
shamen of post-mortem height,
feathered pen will spasm,
with morsel--writhing in and out of light.

Mid-dream--she comes,
'am tired, still work-clothed.
soft lullaby over threshold.

sometimes window pebble tap,
tired head in her jean lap.

but when she doesn't come,
loneliness, follows into dreams,
seductress, over threshold leaves.

a text, she must really exist,
steam in such a cold winter,
glazing my panes with mist.

lonely, tired; no ***** in daytime blur,
asleep in workboots--waiting for her. .

My cucumber grows
for a lovely ***,
fellow cumbers, trained,
put in rows,
cooling pinch
of old man habanero.
Cuz she is hotter than he,
in this summer heat,
so widespread her angle--
raising beans a'dangle,
as zucchini and I do wrangle,
for he has a large leaf,
but I have a long vine,
tho his girth could cover me,
I could climb higher inside,
to get to my lovely ***,
and she does not like grubs,
unearthed during their rubs,
for she told me so,

Oh my lovely ***,
*** me up, and bat me hard,
send my cucumber seeds
sailing over the neighbors yard.

X marks the spot,
A man in overalls and rubber gloves tells me

Go stand there, son

And pick the bones & beaks
Out of the
Chicken press

The whole factory reeked of ammonia
I went home reeking of ammonia.

Chicken conveyor-belts
With upside-down chickens on hooks
Riding slowly over one master neck-splitting saw
Heads in baskets
For when the master saw cuts too deep

I watched them come
& go...

The factory was filled with silent mechanical drumming
Eventually,
I went home
Silent & mechanical.

She looked at me and said
I think you could be someone
Who I would want to cry at my funeral
Because you would have loved me forever
By then

Even in my nightmares
You have no clothes
And I wake cold-sweat
And my ***** is confused

It would be cliché for me to tell you about
The doves
Beating beneath my heart-heavy breastplate
Only most days I feel like a sad piñata
And I want you to beat the heaven out of me

I know what Satan saw
In his decent
And it was worth the trouble

It wasn’t you
(Conceited)
He didn’t see you

Just the passion
The things I want to do to you

Like a lynching
After being dragged for miles from a horse
By the throat
And called a suicide
Only because I didn’t try to stop them from taking me

I want to love you like I should have known better

I want to catch your breath like a harmonica
With my hand over your mouth
A bent note all heave
Slip between my fingers

Let’s be wrong together
Like a nun in a church
Playing I Want Your *** on me
As if I were a ****** pipe *****
Tuned to the key of hallelujah
With a distortion pedal set to laughter

She shook like a love letter
Dropped from a balcony
I didn’t offer my jacket
Just my arms
So much rusty bear traps
Their damp hinges closing is a lonely song

I want to leave here feeling like a shotgun shell
Thrown to the floor hot
And used for killing something
Like the time between now
And your next misfire

Even if we’re just friends by then
She says
I would want you to be there crying
I couldn’t imagine you
*anywhere else

“I don’t believe in love”
She says

As I speed through a yellow light
She presses her first ******* to her lips
Then touches the roof of my car with them
She shuts her eyes

I don’t ask her why
I just trust her intentions

In the same way I don’t believe in anything myself
Save for the passion that takes hold of others
When they believe

I like what that looks like

The word believe when broken down
First means to live
“Be” means to exist as
Or to live

And “Lieve” means love
And I think about the bravery it takes
To believe in anything
And the bravery it takes to love
And how that same bravery is made by love

How many stupid things have we done
Just by loving someone?

How many arguments are there against a belief
In anything?

I don’t believe in god
But I believe in you

When I watch you do things
Like superstitious knee **** reactions
To keep the light yellow a little longer

So on the ride home I do the same thing
As the sun bends it’s yellow into red over a horizon
That is kissing our sunburnt necks

Because I want this car ride to last a little longer

Even though we say nothing
And you don’t ask why for the last fifteen minutes
I’ve had my fingers pressed to the roof of my car
A satisfied smile pressing back my cheeks

You just trust that I feel this means something

So maybe you don’t believe in love
But you believe in something
And by doing so
You are partaking in love on some weird level
Subconsciously
Like breathing

But I want this car ride to last a little longer
So I say nothing
Let the wind **** the silence like white-noise
It’s as close to prayer
As either of us
Will ever get