Original Lies (4/29/13)

Brion Gysin found a painting
1909
stating, writing is
50 years behind painting –
but the painting was lost

as was the poem
that inspired the painter

Ignored Accident (4/25/13)

The carpet complains
under coffee spills and bootprints –
soak in the delicious combo of coffee beans
and feet. Two little creamers
in the ix
with dirt from the other side of town.
Say yummmm
at the silliness
discuss disgust
for puddles
turned to stains
after a few days of
secret saturation

The Words Alone (4/24/13)

I live to give you pain. I love
the blood
I
pull from your veins
slowly, slowly
delight i the seconds ticking
off-beat to every drip and
trickle. Salt water –
I will catch for my collection. Trophies
sealed — resist the urge
to taste the freshly fallen

power in my finger nails so
crusted, covered –
dried blood makes perfect
the pigment of desire

you have for me. Of course I
am
drunk on avoiding the eyes
I hurt. No time for
sorry
focus on
the intoxicating pain
I place inside –
on a high
as the scum of the heart.

Unda Presh (4/24/13)

One would think that pressure
would be a part of physics
in this physical world. One
would imagine
the chemistry being
irrelevant between the
movements of
traffic jams and weather systems, to
break down
the bits to bigger things
before
back again and
back a
gain one PSI need seven need
fourteen
before we implode –

one would think
. . .

.per.io.di.c (4/23/13)

we. have a need. for periods for.
finality stop begin. anew. stop
the end of meaning
take a
breath pause. closure
let it. breathe.
before it bleeds. spreads along
the page
like. the end of fertility
while. the moon wanes. shed
layers
of farce to arrive to.
dissolve
even. without
conclusion
we have a need.
for endin–

Living Anesthetic (4/16/13)

How easy it is to fall in apathy
for you. Too
delightfully numb, joyously
free of care in any aptitude,
apply the creme to
soak up renegade feeling that might
cut open the plastic
of my smile –
grin with teeth
and glassy eyes. Tell me if you can tell
my indifference from
the sameness of your every advance
and I will tell you every
sweet lie
you crave as I hide
behind these frozen eyes

aloof to love. So senselessly
anesthetized
in the rotting remains
of these sterile lines

Floor Flowers (4/11/13)

Dull blades form
flowers on my wrist, make
rose petals in the velvet creme
undone, color rising with sweet
pollen of rust, tickling
the nose
gentle tears swelling behind my
multi-colored eyes. The gold
flecks reflect, turn orange
as the petals sink,
linoleum encouraging their spread, tumble
to the spaces, cling to cracks
brush my toes with silent
babbles, brooks decaying with the spring
sprung from layered metal
drawn in lazy circles
towards the hottest part –
piece of body, towards the central
center
climbing the limb, seeds
and bulbs give life, leave
from dull porcelain to
the living red
of life that leaves so beautifully