Nocturnes graph across the sky
Cloud forms dancing by
Read the palms
earthbound
psalms…
your dreams
will never
die!
you showed up
i had the flu
ginger ale
chicken noodle
you
you went to work
unloading freight
later that day
i hoped
you will
be okay
this is how
we start
to care
wound
rewound
like braids
in hair
single
threading
through
casting spells
with focused
prayer
care for me i
care for
you
imagine
the madness
inchoate
entailed
when taken away
the shell
from a
snail
His hands in his hair, he wished he could call her, she who fucked around behind his back, betrayed him with her bullshit hypocrisy, who he feared would plunge the needle to the vinyl vein, to drown out her pain with some Pop Girl Sap Song. Very plastic of her. She listened to Courtney Love and Hole, and became a better victim. She smeared candy-colored lipstick on her face and tore her clothes in the right places. She thought she was tough. She drew candy-colored hearts by Maybelline all over the mirrors in her apartment, and dropped her knee and hip and lay her elbow down and blew kisses to herself all day long to a waterfall of sound. She did not have any trouble enjoying silence. She never gave herself the opportunity. She had him break the seal on the painted over window in her bathroom so she could hang her head out and scream for everyone to hear her. She was a scratch lottery winner and loser all in the same day. She was a brilliant mess. An idiot savant. A fool to cry. And no one cared to know why. She was the inspiration for many a vexation. The muse of the frustrated sigh.
What makes you tick?
I don’t tick. I’m not a clock. If you take me apart, you won’t be able to put me back together and have me working again.
Can you expand upon that, K?
All I’m gonna say is Descartes was right about spirit. It’s non-mechanical and immaterial.
Are you spiritual?
We all are. So are cats. Spirit is that which is lacking when a life form is de/re constructed . That’s why Dr. Frankenstein needed electricity…cause without it he had only a lifeless blob, devoid of spirit.
Or a clock?
Or a clock. Yes.
So Frankenstein’s monster was a clock is what you are saying?
No, you said it. Why are you asking me questions only Mary Shelley can answer?
So sorry, Madame K.
This interview is over!
Yes, ma’am. Can we talk again, after you’ve cooled those jets?
Talk to the hand!
Remove your age
from you
Account balance your
pretense
Deconstruct the mirror
make up remove
The image
Strip yourself of
unremarkable
markers
for what is
beyond height
beyond eye color
beyond inherited trait
or mentality
Strip down to
the truth of
You
Then see
how we
love
You
you color my black
and
white
i know your combination
by heart
and you
mine
i forget myself around you
then
when
you suddenly
smile
and tell me who i am?
i become
Someone
all my trauma
unresolved
dissolved for a moment
last night
i was watching a show
the guy he looked
similar
younger
he acted the same
heavyset
belligerent
he was a drunk
i had not seen this
before
i was not prepared
to see what i saw
see
saw
the guy got into an altercation
with her
verbal
she told him to fuck off
get off my property
if i see you again
i will shoot you
dead
he staggered off
accurately drunk
good actor
that’s my grandfather’s house
bitch!
go ahead call the police
bitch!
he was apparently friends
with the law
a small town
quite the same
she was strong like me
blonde like me
maybe crazy like
me
but i could see the fear
behind her
eyes
this is my house!
and everything in it
he was fucking her
over the kitchen table
breaking
entering
i kept watching cause
she was strong
i knew it would not be
long
it was almost midnight
valentine’s day
i started to cry a little
the violence
twenty
fourteen
and all alone
all my trauma
resolved
for a moment
she was sitting on his chest
he was lying on the floor
she was stabbing
into him
the knife was bloody
his blood
the floorboards quiet
holding
supporting
the sweet
viscous
vengeance
my blood was pumping
my heart was racing
the tears fallen away
now
a clearing
i kept thinking
yes
yes
yes
she was strong
exacting
psycho
perfect
the wounded
healer
in
me
Shes a mindless giant
A thoughtful fetish
An outdated pharmaceutical
A torn and shredded and trashed and set fire to fallen ash from the air, staining the clean pearl carpets the gods picked out to seamlessly pave the way to manna from heaven in an oceanic time capsule of words much struggled over and taken down by real compassionate lovers of life and liberty and literature
She’s ahistorical
Inconvertible
The most common denominator
Hedged against the gold
Standard
That’s why they love and hate her
Excessively
Drearily gambling all her family heirlooms
Away
As we walk these streets, mine and yours, the streets are ours.
Like the dope beats that we produced.
The rhythms. The –
Stop. I made a mistake.
No editing over ok.
Let the mistake be seen here now.
Otherwise how will you know I am human?
This your personal captcha.
I gotta build your trust. I wanna.
At least today.
I want the relationship in our fantasy to be sorta real but not exactly.
I have only one chance to get to intrigue.
I am excited like a heart in oxygenated blood. Like a come on before an orgasm.
The lens taking lessons from the eyes.
The ones who keep trying after so many tries.
Cause who would I be to simply cast a darkness around myself with my thoughts?
Who would I be if I grasped only the egocentric mind?
Writing checks cannot be cashed.
The divinity so mined.
The one I emulate. My deep model.
Singing all the harmony right off the glass bottle.
Anytime or three am, any night.
I used to manifest her, and feel all right.
Its okay to just say that you don’t know yourself so perfect yet, either.
Truth is you never know.
Self is not one fixed thought or interval. No.
And this is my opinion.
You can love it to death and cook it in a broth of onions you pulled from the ground.
Feels good when you commit.
Have you done so lately?
This is not a demand or an opportunity to embarrass you taken.
It is ok if you think so.
Then tell me somehow. If you can.
My feelings are my feelings.
Please.
I ask only that you be as honest as you can.
Dear me.
Such a brief intersection, our lives.
I wanna know you.
Well enough to help you with a little something or other.
Take off some of your burden.
For I see that you are aching.
Cause I know this particular iradescent-type
Quality.