tonight I'm going to
sleep with the curtains open
and if in the morning
I don't wake
let these sheets become flags
hang them so they appear
as swans on top of
telegraph poles
hang them where the grass is blown across
the midriff of the girl I saw on the platform today
hang them above the fields
where potatoes grow into
the shapes of sympathetic ears
hang them where they may
unravel as bandages from dancing limbs
let my scent cling to them and let the ones
who loved me bury their heads in the wind
hang them on the hero's shoulders
let them be the cloak that transforms him
hang them out to sing in the pines full of woodsmoke
hang them where the sun warms the seagulls belly
where babies commit clotheslines to memory
hang them alongside the underwear you decided not to
wear today
let them hang like actors performing
daring rituals in tropical hotels
hang them on the cucumber held by the checkout girl
hang them on the chins of strutting statues
riding concrete horses
hang them over the endless heads of anxious eyes so
children may play with driftwood
their sea encrusted hair untamed
unwashed
hang them over the conspiracy of clocks
but don't let them hang around too long
don't let them hang down sad and greasy
shrugging shoulders at the parties end.
muttering 'nothing left, time to go'
pull them down mid-dance
sporting a bulging
salt-breeze paunch
hanging just long enough
for them to know
I have eaten well.
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 4:01 PM UTC
tonight I'm going to
sleep with the curtains open
and if in the morning
I don't wake
let these sheets become flags
hang them so they appear
as swans on top of
telegraph poles
hang them where the grass is blown across
the midriff of the girl I saw on the platform today
hang them above the fields
where potatoes grow into
the shapes of sympathetic ears
hang them where they may
unravel as bandages from dancing limbs
let my scent cling to them and let the ones
who loved me bury their heads in the wind
hang them on the hero's shoulders
let them be the cloak that transforms him
hang them out to sing in the pines full of woodsmoke
hang them where the sun warms the seagulls belly
where babies commit clotheslines to memory
hang them alongside the underwear you decided not to
wear today
let them hang like actors performing
daring rituals in tropical hotels
hang them on the cucumber held by the checkout girl
hang them on the chins of strutting statues
riding concrete horses
hang them over the endless heads of anxious eyes so
children may play with driftwood
their sea encrusted hair untamed
unwashed
hang them over the conspiracy of clocks
but don't let them hang around too long
don't let them hang down sad and greasy
shrugging shoulders at the parties end.
muttering 'nothing left, time to go'
pull them down mid-dance
sporting a bulging
salt-breeze paunch
hanging just long enough
for them to know
I have eaten well.