something is wrong with the pendulum
above; my chest has been carved
into new designs;
I am awake with a claw in my head;
I am asleep with nutrient-rich vision;

last night I dreamt
that gnats clouded out from my mouth
as though they were seeding the earth

and I was stupefied; when I awoke,
cold sweat in both hands, I recognized

that apocalyptic mornings
with magma-like light
dripping new over dew,
and the cold stone of night

are a separate entity
from the splinter inside of me

give me that space between
hunter and hunted
where even in mastic war
one can chew stillness.

A mountain hemorrhages cliffs of
sunlight just outside my dark front door;
it is the fifth wonder of my universe,
a morning marvel
framed by coffee
and cigarette smoke; it is
love, with hair of lush pine needles,
and a chest like an arm of dirt:

in your too-old two old
river-bed shoes,
in your dry desert clothing,
why does the fog beat you
like an immovable heart?

How can something so old
be dying; is the sky an
unforgiving wrinkle

more canyon than harbor,
or ship without captain

are we all
all we are
at the end, or is there more?

We dance, two silhouettes under a laundromat
that inch and creep closer like mice, black blips
on a blizzard earth thick with moonlight that lean
and dip, dodging icicles to touch cold fingertips.

Her knuckles in a thin wool sweater, she slips
into the hose of my big overcoat as I brush
snow dust from the nest of her chestnut hair;
wet tennis shoes kiss my slick leather boots.

I stand too close to the sun. The warmth blows
the snow asunder, and sets fire to my lungs; as
my fingers begin to stray; pools of cocoa, lined
in eyeliner laid too thick, draw my face to hers.

Automobiles and meaty mid-afternoon meals,
red bricks and evergreens, trains and frostbite,
skyscrapers and knee scrapes, all leave me and
dissolve in amber bubbles as I lick her liquor lips.

Within black feathers that perch on a pedestal, she
stands on an asphalt floor washed by static cymbals
that weave through bodies bumping clumsily together;
a sheen of she that rises up with eyes of red silver.

Eyes like a halo of stain glass windows over obsidian
with brown bear brows bristling at tees and suits
that slap and grab at the flow of her river of hair
winding over the hills and slopes of her dewy pear.

She sits and taps and drags a chip on her nail,
a red shattered mask of salty and wet sunsets.
The curl and pout of a finger and pointed chin
begets of me a twitch as if to hold her head.

I breathe in a shutter of her honeysuckle mist
that rushes to cover her meaty sweat and spit.
Its sugar tips into my sandy lips and tongue and
begs me to dive into that oasis of Sangria breath.

My hot skin stretches its trembling hairs to caress
her walnut varnished chest that peeks barely
out of her hide-and-go-seek black velvet dress.
Cheeks and belly stuck in a butterfly grip, I gasp
as she turns and beneath peachy lips gives a grin.

Please tell me
my crazy for you
Makes you smile
That my instantaneous
Is exciting!
My true friendship
Is comfort and hope
my emotion
Is **** feminine
Please tell me
My heart is pure gold

It doesn't matter
If I already know
You can say
I'm your kind of spontaneity
That I'm funny
Or silly or cruel
Please tell me you like me
Or better
you love me!
You already know I'm
Your fool

Maybe we'll never
Be anything
more than you and me
Friendship
Means everything
So please just tell me
This is never over