Monday, October 29, 2007


NEW MATH


I have told many lies from the middle
of these monkey bars, and will continue
to tell them, as long as I have an audience,
and do no traffic in the gossip of competing theories.
I dose old photos in sepia tones because
in that way memory has a cut-off.
I like time-lines, you can point them.
If you've got a wheel, forget it. I don't trade in that.
I've got Early American exit-wounds, cannibal train tracks,
the coarse, blond trellises of the first woman ever in distress...
Yeah, now you wish you'd been listening.
There's music, and then there's what I'm selling:
And Europe, that's a cosmetic I can apply liberally.
My arms flap like malaria blankets, my hand-jive is ugly,
like doves fed on sawdust and shot by the magician
who couldn't stop hunger. My pockets are full,
I could be angel, because everyone else stinks like carcass.
And you've got a mouth on you, I can't shut it.
Till it gets this simple...You never opened it to begin with.

Monsters