.
our noses huffing   our eyes flirting out
             vetting the loose night air
a display of yearning   we did a grand deed

a mammal slain at our heart
   and we are the wrecking children  
we killed ourselves a deer
   ( no   small   thing )

flashlights propped in nooks                                                          
open the prey for dressing    we decorated a tree with the task
                                                  slings of intestinal tubing

open prey for dressing            
                 vocal prayer for the ****

praise the attributes that we ended            
                             the characteristics we assigned it
live meat in perish   organs   adding moist hot breath
                                                 to a waking cold night

after our butcher act                                                
after the parcels and beast are stowed                        
amongst the trees   we take off as phantoms in touch                
'to ourselves be sacrifice and yet return'   is somehow the plan

winds pick up                                            
                            and cold rain drives sideways
leaves of the bushes                              
                  flashing fish silver underbellies
a fleshing thrill combing the trees
an urgent spirited excitement

back at daybreak                                                        
                             we skin off our leather grip slippers
remove our party plate masks                                      
and  in the irrigated mourning grass          
              wipe our feet                               
wash away our tread and our threat

Remember that time we flew to the Moon,


Where the angels were angles and later was soon?



Where we dream of the stars,

We see light beyond time.

Cosmic corpses piled up

Visceral line after line

Lighting all we call space, firmament, and the night sky

and you can't help asking “why not?”

before asking “why?”


It's the way we are born

to receive and to grow,

but there's a little bit more

you're unlikely to know, so

join us


as I show how to move mountains,

to my child, in the snow;

Not all good things come easy,

but all we nurture, we grow.


I'll show you how to open Hell's Gate

With a shotgun at the devil's throat

before our emotions in emoticons

explode into a joke.

People often proclaim it's one or the other,
but it's my honest belief that Shakespeare was really on to something
and that both Heaven and Hell are empty because all the angels and demons are here with us.

In order to ward off the darkness,
we must imagine how dark it could truly become.
In so doing, you adjust your eyes in silence
set a candle in the last corner you feel the light will suffice to illuminate the ceiling
sailing apertures of a setting star
receding like a drawbridge
being pulled to gate
until you've become
so nocturnal,
the night itself asks
that you
remember to put out its candle
and silence the silly little flame
on my chest
before falling asleep.