Lovers circle
Their glass Sabbath.
Hands like magnets
Find joy in funeral.
Death of *** a
Tornado of fire,
Conflagration
Of the senses. The
Asteroid that shed
Her dress now crashes
Into the cactus, standing
Stone-faced and rooted
Deep in Earth.
Ordinary planets
Ring saint birth
On Thursday. Angels,
Paperclip assassins, rope
Bankers and truck drivers-
The ribs of Utah in the winter.
The cage that guards
A snowglobe heart. Mid-
Center shiver shaking,
Continental breaking
And aching, the shallow
Foundation of
Some growing space,
Suspended in static
Tribute to the ideal.
The cactus now this
Blank-faced man,
Sick framed mannequin
Dressed in scarlet
Remembrance, knee-deep
In strained white somber.
Sweet pair of sobbing,
Feeling faith found again
In the rain that water-
Logs the gasping pores
Of some colliding flesh,
Vibrating and ringing
Warm cold as the starlight
in your hair. You fish me
From your hairbrush
At the wake of cosmic
Death. Downstream, the
Next of kin of now fallen star
Whirl and cross, clasped in
Stellar embrace until
They splatter the gray stains
Of memories past upon
This cheaply made scene,
The spread of this mute
Moonlight; This obsidian
Distance is a well.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 8:37 PM UTC
Lovers circle
Their glass Sabbath.
Hands like magnets
Find joy in funeral.
Death of *** a
Tornado of fire,
Conflagration
Of the senses. The
Asteroid that shed
Her dress now crashes
Into the cactus, standing
Stone-faced and rooted
Deep in Earth.
Ordinary planets
Ring saint birth
On Thursday. Angels,
Paperclip assassins, rope
Bankers and truck drivers-
The ribs of Utah in the winter.
The cage that guards
A snowglobe heart. Mid-
Center shiver shaking,
Continental breaking
And aching, the shallow
Foundation of
Some growing space,
Suspended in static
Tribute to the ideal.
The cactus now this
Blank-faced man,
Sick framed mannequin
Dressed in scarlet
Remembrance, knee-deep
In strained white somber.
Sweet pair of sobbing,
Feeling faith found again
In the rain that water-
Logs the gasping pores
Of some colliding flesh,
Vibrating and ringing
Warm cold as the starlight
in your hair. You fish me
From your hairbrush
At the wake of cosmic
Death. Downstream, the
Next of kin of now fallen star
Whirl and cross, clasped in
Stellar embrace until
They splatter the gray stains
Of memories past upon
This cheaply made scene,
The spread of this mute
Moonlight; This obsidian
Distance is a well.
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