Jan 2021
a dime,
a piece from my mouth
ask him to sit
he stands
I sweat
buck, gut, gralloch
send him off his balance
send him off with a ballad
a song of hands disappearing
up to the wrist, inside him
become a thick-skinned
being
or
shed it completely
fold me in two
I swallow, I spit
I learn to drink and laugh again
he
sticks a hand into the border fires
stokes that fray of running wires with his tongue and I warn him "it'll burn you up,"
sweet love of my life
living like
the moon pulls not just the tide,
but all manner of things
I pick every seed off the bun–get em all off,
every one
sesame
sesame
sesame
his shoulders slump,
eyes roll
nostrils flare
its barbed wire
another bucket
another drum on my already pounding heart I can't take it I can't take it I can't—
sesame
sesame
sesame
I'll forget
what I've been, I'll forget what—
I don't remember, but
I only want to stretch toward the sun
a piece from my mouth
ask him to sit
he stands
I sweat
buck, gut, gralloch
send him off his balance
send him off with a ballad
a song of hands disappearing
up to the wrist, inside him
become a thick-skinned
being
or
shed it completely
fold me in two
I swallow, I spit
I learn to drink and laugh again
he
sticks a hand into the border fires
stokes that fray of running wires with his tongue and I warn him "it'll burn you up,"
sweet love of my life
living like
the moon pulls not just the tide,
but all manner of things
I pick every seed off the bun–get em all off,
every one
sesame
sesame
sesame
his shoulders slump,
eyes roll
nostrils flare
its barbed wire
another bucket
another drum on my already pounding heart I can't take it I can't take it I can't—
sesame
sesame
sesame
I'll forget
what I've been, I'll forget what—
I don't remember, but
I only want to stretch toward the sun
it feels like a take-all-of-your-clothes-off-and-let-your-teeth-chatter
kind of night
like
when the scarecrow's caught,
he goes a little faster
rolls those wild rows of corn with a little laughter
sort of night
take out your pen and
write something a little brighter
but scarecrows are still
and the artist in you is even quieter
and you're naked in your bedsheets
and you're naked with your clothes on
and you're naked when the birds sing
and you're naked when the light's off
kind of night
like
when the scarecrow's caught,
he goes a little faster
rolls those wild rows of corn with a little laughter
sort of night
take out your pen and
write something a little brighter
but scarecrows are still
and the artist in you is even quieter
and you're naked in your bedsheets
and you're naked with your clothes on
and you're naked when the birds sing
and you're naked when the light's off
