sky reading

Nocturnes graph across the sky
Cloud forms dancing by
Read the palms
earthbound
psalms…

your dreams
will never
die!

a spell

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

homelessness

imagine

the madness

inchoate

entailed

when taken away

the shell

from a

snail

Pop Girl Sap Song

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.

Q and A with K

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!

Strip

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

the bees knees

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

psycho

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

18th b@tch i met -iv

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

 

 

Lens taking lessons from eyes (18th b@tch -iii)

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.