Friday, July 02, 2010

Of Sirens and C-Sections

Hey
Hey there
Lady
Let me burn your night down
Let me disassemble your functioning drunk
Your parallelomilligram
Your revolting insights, your
Twilight years transcribed via phonechainmailorderforms

Let me fill your calendar with made-up holidays
Infinite Looping Parade Day
Anti-Matter Deathday (Observed)
Celebration of The No
Because the fire trucks are screaming
Through terrified neighborhoods,
Blaring their horns in a portent of smoke
And jelly-flopping legs
Turning circles through parking lots and into
The telling of legends

So hey there
Lady
Come back and hear me out
I've got a pretty good deal
And you should really just
Hear me out
You might find something you've been looking for
Under ant and egg sac-stained stones

And you just might
Understate purpose,
Justify talons,
Pull back the teeth of your bear trap with
Nervous construction

And when you do,
And you see the inscription
Carved out by the marrow of dying animals
You may find it spells out your maiden name
Dressed in the scabs and fur of
Exodus and such


1 comment:

D. Jonathan Newman said...

love that you're switching it up man. keep it up.