Saturday, April 28, 2012

a declaration.

there are
words for this
words, tumbling in my gut like clothing in a dryer
words
meant for 
best man speeches and war cries
there are words for this
what I'm feeling right now, aching core and all
meant for morale-boosting shouts between gunfire
lyrics to a song
sung passionately with entire lungfuls of air, exhumed
oh there are words for this
like every single atom of your body wants to scream them once you find them
my twisting gut, wrapping into itself 
consuming itself like a fire 
there are
words

eulogies

conversations about the meaning of life
congratulatory statements
proposals

there are words for this,
there are.

Monday, April 16, 2012

dancing on anthills.

Debaser Of the Elements, we forgive you we forgive you
corrosion and corruption impatience and disruption
every muscle fiber, every sinew and bone in your body. every sympathetic nerve reaction
aftershocks in my nameaftershocks aftershocks in my name

what drives you to make such mistakes?
in what god's name do you pray to such falsities?
fall prey to such woe?
he makes a soap box with his bare hands, just for you to stand on it and slit your wrists?

dancing on anthills
you know not what you do
who says you should be forgiven for anything?
who says?
yet we forgive you, don't we.
Us.
the choir of integrity,
the army of rectitude,
standing fast against the onslaught of that which breaks our hearts with such voracity that one can't help but feel as though there is nothing left but this moment here now, these mere seconds where we find out who is made out of concrete and who is made out of copper.

Monday, April 2, 2012

.

.
Are our secrets alive?
.
Does the pulse of their heartbeat echo inside your head, loud as recurring atom bombs?
.

deductive abhorrence.

I
taught
her
to
howl
I pressed shirts with her words and gave them out to the crowds
the message is in the eclipse
stare directly at the sun until you are as enlightened as the rest
all wearing her words
hurled worlds
use this as a panacea

the boy that sleeps in the thesaurus with a shell of a woman
the Acrobat and the Audience
amplification of clarity and focus / we sorted you out good
sleep tight! larvae to pupae to critic to cannibal
Claude Monet death-strokes
flickering images and the scent of regret
the blur of a fog so dense,
cataract smiles,
paralysis sex,
the forced quarantine of the most popular leper in the world.

your! crotch! is a! shanty-town!
and you shout brief interludes of silence
a mouth void
a caricature of a black hole on a screen, in a huge theater full of nothing but seats
your audience is seats

she
taught
me
to
pray
as I sat there, in my goddamn captain's chair, barking demands at the ocean
I wondered
what it would be like
to love Jesus

I still wear her words at night I swear I won't tell anyone but I still wear her words at night I swear I won't tell anyone and I still wear her words at night I swear I can't tell anyone but I still wear her words at night I try to take them off but I can't, I still wear her words at night promise not to tell anyone but I still wear her words at night oh god please don't tell anyone oh I still wear her words at night and I haven't told anyone but you I still wear her words at night I swear I won't tell anyone but I still wear her words at night, they bathe my dreams in direction