Sunday, September 28, 2014

Save Me

This one's called "Save Me"

The yellow glow from
the shadeless filament casts
halfhearted glares on my
living room window

I'm staring - staring at
myself, faded colors

Now the night gets
colder, rain turns to hail that
clicks on glass like
bullets from heaven

the crackles are shackles
from embers of
burnt oak that
breathe shadows
on the walls

A dull chime
from the grandfather clock
and I'm done seeing me
but I still stare

outside blackness turns
dark purple as dawn arrives

My face lessens in the window;
it's almost gone now
I see headlights at
the edge of the driveway -
at the edge of darkness,
and they meet my eyes and
blind me

Friday, September 19, 2014

We Made Ourselves

Here's an instance
real instance
"gather up the slit-eyes -
take them out west"
out past tribal lands
with lakes of gin
and streams of questions

but we weren't part of that
boots made by chink children
somewhere in Bangkok and
baht flowing like soy sauce
into someone's gullet

traps eyes of a woman's stare
and thanks his praising boys
never once looked down
and thought of the children

we made ourselves
we worked really hard
we went to school
we are here and
they are there

comatose humility
white owl eyes
Ford tough skin
fossils of privilege


Thursday, September 11, 2014

Singularity, Movement, Decay

Walking past
Simple "hi"
Stardust tongue
Galaxy eyes

Giant plans
Growing old
Slurping marrow
Gone tomorrow