Wake from the dream
where I lick your toes
each until your alarm
goes off to go to work, eyelids droop.
I can't have forgotten.
Mouth dry, awake at 12:31 A.M.
on fire.
The kitchen in order and your car locked.
Not Friday. Saturday. Sniff
your hair trailing over the sofa arm.
Tell the difference.
Song of the stereo still playing
in the dream background,
the real crash in window shard sliver.
The slaughter houses we march
after well rounded breakfast.
Wake with a second pinch
to rinsing a shaver and huff polish
a mirror with bare elbow so that
you can see, held right,
the flipped image
of what I shaved into your hips.
You are seeing a breeze on the brush.
Let me lick my thumb!
We are going to be rich.
Can I say hello? Once. Every year.
Darling, golden, purr.
Purr and hum. The track's song. Fault lines.
original works of parts
Smoker 55
They call me
by many names.
If you have a light
you can call me anything
as long as I smile.
As far as
Christopher?
Absolutely not.
Offer Cricktwofur and I will demand your tongue on a velvet pillow
that measures 16 inches by 16 inches and no less
and a velvet that must match one of the primary colors
number coded to the amount of fingers I have splayed
behind my back without do-overs
as well as
both of your ring fingers, one of your achilles tendons
(you have the option between the two)
one of your thumbs, all of the clothing you are wearing,
and 25% of the hair on your scalp. You can keep your scalp.
Then yes.
Do you have a light?
Well then, also yes
(that's not my name).
by many names.
If you have a light
you can call me anything
as long as I smile.
As far as
Christopher?
Absolutely not.
Offer Cricktwofur and I will demand your tongue on a velvet pillow
that measures 16 inches by 16 inches and no less
and a velvet that must match one of the primary colors
number coded to the amount of fingers I have splayed
behind my back without do-overs
as well as
both of your ring fingers, one of your achilles tendons
(you have the option between the two)
one of your thumbs, all of the clothing you are wearing,
and 25% of the hair on your scalp. You can keep your scalp.
Then yes.
Do you have a light?
Well then, also yes
(that's not my name).
Human Again
Hold the face upward tense with blood rushing
loud enough to hear hairs inside both ears sway.
The black beneath fingernails smells of rot,
insect blood, unshowered salt skin and cool snot.
Grass tickles, uncut and too tall, knees wh ile
moss qui t lean their n eedl s in to miniatu
ps. If they c uld be humming rds, they wou
be; ea follic e a c p th t a flower. Body m e.
It might rain today. Maybe tomorrow. Ha
y s nted t air today? I don't want rk.
One hand raised, a filament in sun's rise glitter.
Dew and how are they hatching now? Late bloomers?
All along the sleeve of my jacket. Movement.
Sprockets small enough to fit into a pocket watch
if one were to shatter it and spread its bones,
its guts, its gooey bits in a line long enough
to swallow dawn wavelengths and burp them
into hatchling spider sized droplets of
solar vomit. What are you?
loud enough to hear hairs inside both ears sway.
The black beneath fingernails smells of rot,
insect blood, unshowered salt skin and cool snot.
Grass tickles, uncut and too tall, knees wh ile
moss qui t lean their n eedl s in to miniatu
ps. If they c uld be humming rds, they wou
be; ea follic e a c p th t a flower. Body m e.
It might rain today. Maybe tomorrow. Ha
y s nted t air today? I don't want rk.
One hand raised, a filament in sun's rise glitter.
Dew and how are they hatching now? Late bloomers?
All along the sleeve of my jacket. Movement.
Sprockets small enough to fit into a pocket watch
if one were to shatter it and spread its bones,
its guts, its gooey bits in a line long enough
to swallow dawn wavelengths and burp them
into hatchling spider sized droplets of
solar vomit. What are you?
Can I Kiss You Once Each Year?
Wake from the dream
where I lick your toes
each until your alarm
goes off to go to work.
I can have not forgotten.
Dry mouth awake anew.
Something on fire.
The kitchen. The kitchen!
Not Tuesday.
Saturday evening
familiar
song of the fire alarm.
Rice burns and quench
in the sink.
Metal split and screech bubble
boil bang and bssshhhhhh.
Sweat drip from eyelash,
from brow and scalp tight.
Breathe heavy, fingertip tremor,
eye's wide.
We are going to be rich.
All of this money.
Boil. Handsome, darling, golden, purr.
Purr and hum. The track's
song. Fault lines.
where I lick your toes
each until your alarm
goes off to go to work.
I can have not forgotten.
Dry mouth awake anew.
Something on fire.
The kitchen. The kitchen!
Not Tuesday.
Saturday evening
familiar
song of the fire alarm.
Rice burns and quench
in the sink.
Metal split and screech bubble
boil bang and bssshhhhhh.
Sweat drip from eyelash,
from brow and scalp tight.
Breathe heavy, fingertip tremor,
eye's wide.
We are going to be rich.
All of this money.
Boil. Handsome, darling, golden, purr.
Purr and hum. The track's
song. Fault lines.
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