My big brown beating
heart is head over high-heels for the lady in the red dress who passes by my window
every night while I dream
my dead dark demented eyes are excited by the exhale of her chest in the midst of a midnight's eve
whatever that is
11:59pm and it's time to go, that lady will be waiting in the back of my mind
holding a torch to the candle which I brought along
in case of emergency
I have a rusted shackle around my ankle
and a lazy eye rested on that girl's finger
which she brought along
because of a dream
I say the only words that I know
they pile up like hatches in the back of my throat
collect like dust piles on the tip of my tongue
I moved oceans and
I painted the sky with lilies
leaving the spine in my back in the shape
of an S.

My big brown beating heart is head over high-heels for the lady in the red dress
walking away from me
my dead dark demented eyes are searching for something exciting
my big brown beating heart
is sinking inside of me
my big brown beating heart
this dead black restless heart.

You told me ten stories of concrete would make this street shine like that star in the sky.
You told me how the bricks stacked neatly and piled into rows.
On that hot day
vultures flocked,
looking for my soul.
You said you would be there to celebrate the shade concrete towers would make.
But that star in the sky has been dead for centuries.
Now those concrete towers block my view of its memory.
And gave the vultures a way to corner me into the dark.
That was the only time I saw you celebrate.

I put my butterscotch in the refrigerator
Next to the bananas, three loaves of bread,
tortilla strips
just under the styrofoam cups

In the cupboard, I keep my ground beef.
Don't worry, I put it in freezer bags,
I'm not an idiot.

I challenge everyone I meet to a staring contest
The first time I lost was to a homeless man.
He had a way of staring at something (and nothing)
at the same time.
He told me it's a skill you learn when you are
perishable goods.
Here I was trying to preserve things
I would only use once.
I don't even know what butterscotch looks like.