1.
Hands interwoven
sunrises collapse into broken globes of violet,
jocular fairies twinkle above the thought-bubbles,
hammering details of travel.
2.
It is the dress that distracts the eyes, woozy,
confused by the zigzags leading to a dead-end,
mouths closed by laced remorse,
off course cause’ the kettle isn’t ready yet.
3.
Like a birds nest nestled between a highway and a shore.
Rummaged pieces of cardboard and love letters,
reading fifty poems out-loud until the dam breaks.
Takes two for a dance to work,
twist, three, turn, four,
allure, bating tremors,
skin smooth as wine,
a toast to thy
life.
4.
Peppered salt on wheels,
treading honestly
like hooves of the knight riders,
wide-eyed
like Mason & Dixon posting lines across the land
through star-gazing
and hazy atmospheres.
5.
Hymns sound more like screams,
hands pressed to the palm
for a solemn equal prayer
of jangled cataracts dug within the metal corridor.
Alive, proved by breath,
a hive buzzing with demons
ready to signal poison death for global sloth.
It rings thrice upon the tone
own insult results in uncanny litter
brittle knuckles beat each other
red and bruised
then lips part
and kiss for a thousand years.
6.
Seven dreams are saw simultaneously
each with a meaning and a different girl
but if only to remember the heartaches in their eyes
and singing absolutely about nothing in particular
remaining a mere message on a voicemail
press seven to delete
press seven to delete
and it retains the water billowing from the ears
filling twenty glasses with her favorite liquor
she loved to drink on days where the cuts grew
dark and silent like a crow cawing in the haze
she liked those days when the smallest piece of filth
remained a assassin for a vigorous metaphorical phrase.
7.
Unlucky cracks and ladders line up with no four-leaf
year that remembers hostile urchins pickling the bottom of
cars racing on I-55 forever in a
gavel pounces the asphalt while
summer pierces memories of long walks
on lakes that hide beneath looming skyscrapers if
the days and nights blur like “starry night” pastels
leaving colored marks on body parts rolling
hands on themselves gripping tightly on
seasons whooshing and chiming on cloaks of
Venus roses given in a bundle to represent the
other times coming and going
like a avalanche collapsing on everyday
until the last note C minor rings
More true then the words that
whisper from the shore.
