SHAMBOLIC

To walk upon seas that were once
oceans, oceans that were once
perforated pavement, pavement
that would crack upon impact
of a suspect dream.

To see it all before me
in shards, to see it all
like stars gleaming,
like the strip-tease
before the cops bust in.

To see it all, in the moment
before impact, breathing.

EXILES

I could take you out back and give you a whipping,
I could set fire to the postage stamp of our
long distance ancestors, I could claim no kin
in the frothy blood. I could erase everything
I’m about to say, I could say, “I’m penniless!
Redundant!” And you would still lay this key
to a forgotten kingdom upon my tainted brow…

NAPOLEON OF DUST

Oh, of course, the smudge
on the fine print wasn’t meant
as a sign of disrespect, or a misnomer
of your net worth, or a totem worth
building just for the burning in the back field.
Oh, that net isn’t even worth catching.
Oh, you have portfolios that will
sail you far, far away from this,
my bejeweled, beheaded prince…

ROOT CAUSE

Despite my drawn breath,
this moment still awaits us.
We are triggers left yawning,
pistols without punctuation marks,
diseases without causes.
I’m so far gone from where I started—

this close to the last word.

ABSOLUTES

You can declare anything, can’t you?
Your thirst never falters in wine-dark seas.
There is a bureaucratic redundancy
in your wish list of tidily apocalyptic
end-days. Your story the last story,
to end all others, all storms, your word
alive only in the shroud of the last
innocent animal you skinned to keep
yourself warm.

LOVE LETTER

such hints with dollops
of cyanide have you spun
the threads of my tongue

REPORT

There’s a report right here
that proves the frail elegy
of fireflies.

Fold it up, repent.
Reinvent bird song at dawn.

Let the sky close.
Let the sky close down.

Multitudes pulling
up stubborn roots that proclaim
they hold stuffed visages.

Sell the incision quick,
so that your name be doused
before the next dotted line.

RUINS

Look---There’s Rome
in my ashtray! The photo
of a ruined coliseum
beneath the grey-shaled
dust of cigarette butts,
shifting & snuffed-out.
I’m like a slave, who bought
his freedom, smiling…

HOLY ACCIDENT

Torn breezes
settled air
an impact I can breathe
Crickets after a long rain
the leashes of a distant hurricane
briefly eased
& me left guessing
at the thrumming engine
that goes on beneath each breath

WE ALL KEEP TIME

this roadside is
a snake swallowing itself
and we are one

for lack of air and water
and light, for lack
of what is left

give forth a still born
who sings in a voice
of clear, untrodden underground

for the rest, I wrap around
me like a cheap hymn
we all keep time to