Of Queen's Claw Feet

Luke has left

devoured by bathwater

gone cold.

She remains

a feignwarmth

so gallant I

salivate a vein

in a leaf

nibbled by Earth’s Sol

in winter’s tight skin

bitten by scruff.

And I beg her to become

Ruskin’s Mythic Queen whose

hip I hold in hand to

till with my tongue and

pull the corners of

her lips all

pink and lovely
into my smile.

E's Cabin

Chump and churl am I

choking blood from the legs.

Locked knees, and all, y’know?

With the caps covered in

folded flesh

like a kid-licked bottom lip while

light-headed and hot.

I stand in the shower

hold M’sippi’s Mud

in one hand

memories of you

in the other.

Takin’ my sweet time.

Cicisbeo for palms to see

but a five-fingered picker

for the rest of ‘em

while porchin’ it

in the cold

rolled out in the mountains of

Idaho’s wolves and brotherhoods.

Smoke signals to the future

howled up from a “Haah!

Help-us-figure-it-out”

held in first to

hit the hardest.

Songs sent

to the outskirts callin’

home

the loose skin that

left us

alone.

I keep a’pluckin a knot of knuckled skills.

And we talk all about it

then we talk about it all.

Why

I know

I can

do this

because I’m not insane. Listen,

my friend, who knows

how to make me feel

accomplished. Like

I’m good at it:

Integration—how words

I love grind so disgusting

and sexy, coming together

and keeping in flow, full

of poetry.

Song and dance,

music from me

for you to move to

and feel

that I fit

a purpose. To continue

jiving with those

around me, my friend.

So watch me dance

teary-eyed

—can you feel me?

I’m with it

right now

and I’m turned around.

Are you?

Sing it with me!

I don’t care if it rhymes

or if it’s even

funny, silly, or stupid

or fun-o-sillystupid.

Come on. Let’s stomp

hard, hold the beat

and… breathe

.

 See, this

is how I know—

because I run out of

words and I think

you get what I mean.

And, well

.

Love Friction

You've got that side
and I can't take it.
And so we grind
together into a pile
of what we're made of
when I come to you.

Sacrificial Self

Shackled in
the shrill of this
chamber,

I twist and shout
until it hurts.
So bad,

I've got every excuse
to shock you and love
the way you electrify me.
So much,

I want to
thank you and
give it back.

So I will
rock and rattle
my revenge

into distortions
of you screaming
my name. I'll hear
grinding sounds. And--grinding words

to feel the static
of the struggle
of confrontation--

I'll find you

here,
top, bottom, left,
right, wrong, in that
or there.

I burn to

just turn you
into ash. So like me
you smolder and stink
for the sake of
righteousness.

Come Closer to Me

The peaces I am
missing
are the same
pieces you are
missing--

everyone, everything.

We do anything to feel
whole : again.

I feel how I once was. But

you believe it
would require a grand
manipulation to accomplish
again.

I'm different.

I believe it
requires nothing. But
love.

Like the atom.

“That’s how life is,

one direction for as long as you can and then

boom!

Now you’re something else!”

angry you say it

livid screaming intense

teeth

“They’re out to get you and

that’s how it works;

the plants die

when you eat them!”

teeth

“And don’t you feel good about it?

Fuck you for being

one with it.”

why can’t you see

the truth of how

“Everything is

different;

why can’t you see it my way?”

because I am

different

I believe

we are the same

Professor Lectures Symbol

Today we wear irony

a  cross

our throats.

An execution tool.

Faith is

an elegy

met afore

symbol.

Like the swastika

pulled from the womb

of a synagogue

and raised to

ruin

now listed among Israel’s artifacts.

I Spoke Apocalyptic

questions doting on silent reply.

But those two little insignificant dots

at the center of my genetic heritage chart

splaying out to a circle called

Mother and Father

shot back loudly, Grow no more!

So Stunted is the name I gave my coat walking into winter.

It’s quite a trick to stay warm when you’re feelin’ heat
for figuring yourself out.

I Drank Too Much

And all that free booze we bought with want and Cash

is moping down the drain

even though Inner State Esophagus Highway 9-to-5  is

the best route for today’s trouble trees and genetic inclinations.

Burn down my forest! Burn down my throat!

because I breathe it like

leaves breathe self-justification on their fall to the ground.

I AM the man in black.

I belong down below says

the stomach—says I.

So I sit sunken

feathering my inheritance for all to see.

Even I laugh

Ha! What a piece-a-shit!

Dry-eye pixels cry down your back in the shower I’m so blind!

And now, my long-fingered friend

I tear open my chest

pull back the ribs

reach down my throat

pull the insides up and

watch them slosh out my mouth.

I stand
a cavern where songs used to soak.

As He Expects

Unflappable, I stand

with tears flipping off my face. It grimaces 

back the truth for everyone to see: spilled out

inside my pants is the shit from recess and 

My Dad Is On His Way

Imperturbable, I steer

with sweat setting off 

my grip. It knuckles back the tension 

for everyone to feel: festering up

under my skin is the demand of me and 

My Son Is Waiting

Bring Black Rice

You neck me 

with calligraphy cuts

romantically red, silent,

and scythed in

a line unbreakable:

I'll take you away from here.

But I scab

into Supple’s slut—

fresh flesh to

finger and fuck :

blame and blemish. Thus

I pick to bleed. My histamine inflames

so singeing your loved letters rise

and remind Rigor Mortis

to marry us.

I gush

to be your staleheart, 

skipping—with you—

every 

beat.

After Maggie's Farm

I heard a howlin’ truth

drag its feet to my paw, lay

down a path and pour

out a tangent sayin’

You wouldn’t know a wolf

pack payin’ prayer to

God if He

told you.

So with two dull teeth

and a belly fierce to

boast ‘em, I took

off to find you on

the outskirts—chest

towards the sky

breathin’ rain and
repentance.

Mary Paints Adam

Gray billowsilk,

wriggle through my

temples and convolutions a

monochrome snake,

acrylic.

Tongue me deep,

lung-ingly. With a clockwise twirl

moonwalk me slow. Dance

on the floor in the round

with me, darling.

Brush up against, all

around and around

me: Masonite man

quite clean. And—

Cover me thick! Skinned

with experience to think and

tell about the town, “I’m Alexathymia’s ex!”

Thy art, already on my breath.

And dirty, now

glowing. Me

in unshuckable color

of Eve, really fucking

fresh and wet and close

to the beginning.

So, I go gray.