Tuesday, June 10, 2008


RADIOS SING HEAVEN: VI


Hear that? Radios sing heaven,
rising off the dashboards
like a cheap hymn.
We’ll all keep time, clumsy-fingered,
and I’ll come back, I’ll sing along,
I’ll signify the air with my talking.

Saturday, June 7, 2008


GURU NO


May you pray for the closing of jaws.
May you pray for such a thing.
May you pray for the thin forgiveness
that exists between lines that haven’t
been written or spoken yet.

May you pray that this doesn’t even begin.

Friday, June 6, 2008


NOTHING BLUES


I got no problem saying nothing.
It’s on the tip of my tongue, down
to the Isle of Sunder.

I got no problem saying nothing.
It’ll keep me company,
like no other.

I got no problem saying nothing.
With seeds split wide,
and no place to gather.

I got no problem saying nothing.
A wet, black bough
gasping in the ether.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008


HALF A MAP


Is that what they call your face?
I remember a time when it stood
for something besides the five
pillars of salt it does now.
Yes, I’ve been balancing
the apocalypse along with
the budget, and baby makes three.
I’ve been left speechless
enough times to know
every word is pending,
that only a wolf in bureaucrats’
clothing could hope to take
your howl, send it out on the wire,
and have it back within the hour,
losing a little in translation,
sure, but already on its’ way
to turning on itself.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008


SUTURE SELF


The incision was quick.
So was your come back.
But you won’t miss our reply.
What’s one small wire
in the great, cannibalized sprawl?
We’ve sectioned off your excesses,
drained some swamp land,
got a great redevelopment
opportunity for all parties
interested. You’ve already
made nice with the velvet ropes,
the SOS, the bright yellow
crime scene tape.
Your position is clear.
Now we have to define it.

Monday, June 2, 2008




QUESTION


How can a smoke stack
limned in sunset
suddenly seem so beautiful?
Or the pink-tendriled steam
cloud from a rooftop vent?
Or the distant, glass and steel
skyscraper, now a brief,
flame-filled skeleton,
like some pagan sacrifice
at the border of our memory,
to stave off the coming night?


NOTE TO SELF:


Careful what you look for
in the mirror. Negation vortexes
are not part of the bargain.
They’re off the table, non-negotiable.
Difficult to control when unleashed.
Buy an averted gaze, instead.
A self-taught lie. Universal patent,
pending.

Monsters