a liar

undulation told in the bathroom
a liar. house settles between
finished and tall, and tall and
unfinished. the first howlings
of the year. bathroom shudders
a drip tap told me. to fear is
a fiber thing. houses are really
large woodwind instruments we
chose to live in. unfinished shows
us this in gale force, a low calm
pitch, resonating a window. left
open. fear is a fiber thing. as is
the rolling bucket. the slow sliding
then the silence. a little gasp.
undulation told the curtains it
was a liar. closed the doors. made
a little room, of stillness. sat. drank.
washed it’s bleeding teeth.
folded dirty clothes. ate a cake of soap.
undulated. said i was a lair. unfinished
house next door sings like a flute
i wonder if it confuses the bats and their
precious
little
echos.
whether it sounds like their mother.
and they begin to roost in her chest chamber.

a liar

Tourist

and that night, she grated her face upon a palm tree

cause mama pays special heed to splinters and spines

stumbles on a bus home

gets on for free, takes lots of pictures

imagines she could kill the world over, and over, and over, like turning

soil and replanting

and that night, she lied about everything

she imagines she could lie herself to a different place

stumbles back on pavement, wonders what a car feels like

if it could take her to space.

to ocean. and that night, she knows you are following her

and that night, she screams at traffic lights,

because she knows she’s gonna die

and that night, she just says hurry, hurry, hurry

get it over with, i’m tired of the slow creeping

just fucking split me open to bitumen, bleed me out,

try and love me with your choker hold,

try not to love me at all, try not love making corpses out of me

and that night, she watches boys in the distance

playing football under stage lights

remembers running for her life

being taught

to love, being hated

 

 

Tourist

two days deep end

two days deep end my fingers are stained green
smelt of mint and lime
lover smells of garlic cloves and naked ginger
so I buy that after work
as the rain patters down, I shift my turtle neck
for the ghost mouth
which kisses neck then deep end for two days
ginger ache in mine
maybe I am lonely, I say to bottle and I kiss again
it responds in unkind
but the longer I am alone, the more I catch sight
there was a child
she stands in the corner watching me drink
thinks of mother
the way she made Milo, and watermelon ice tea

two days deep end

sun god

its very hard to speak when?

your mouth is full of light

open wide and say

I CANT SEE ANYTHING BECAUSE THE LIGHT COMES FROM ME AND IT HURTS LIKE PULLING OUT SPLINTERS

the dentist laughs and puts that thing in your mouth that sucks (a black hole)

then he mumbles

you’ve some nasty green aurora stuck in your front teeth¬†

he scraps with the scraping thing

you have some solar flares growing on your gums, but some bonjela should fix that up in no time 

he pauses, his hands still

and looks your wisdom teeth are about ready to pull out

he laughs to himself

its finally happening

all of you struggles and shines but hands come in their thousands/hold your mouth open

nobody cares if they are blind///he reaches inside///angles the man-made for leverage///pulls and there is a pop pop pop///you turn to burning other and they scream///the dentist pulling away with the prize of man///then suddenly they all leave and with them the light from your eyes

the rest of your teeth are afraid; they burrow back into your skull till they pop out the other side, and shine shine shine out the back of your mind.

the darkness is brimming

the darkness is so total

YOU SPIN AND SPIN LIKE A LIGHTHOUSE, TO BREAK IT WIDE OPEN

(AKA, a star)

sun god

when i was small i did not have friends i had flowers and plants

the hardware store was like a kingdom with all of that stretching up

WAREHOUSE

i was afraid of god and kings

tiny feet would find themselves outside with the plants

PLEASE CAN I GET A ROSE DAD I PROMISE TO WATER IT EVERY SINGLE DAY I PROMISE I PROMISE I PROMISE

my fathers eyes are like a graveyard

no

PLEASE I WILL TAKE CARE OF IT

he picks it up and gives it to me, buys a small watering can

in the car ride home i hold the rose close

WE ALL REMEMBER BEING TAUGHT ABOUT CARBON DIOXIDE AND PHOTOSYNTHESIS BY THAT TEACHER WHO HATED US

holding fast and close i breathe out towards the rose, my sister asks what i am doing

giving the rose some carbon dioxide

what i should have said was

trying desperately to form a symbiotic relationship with the plant so if i kill it by accident i will die too and learn my lesson

the rose died within a week

when i was small i did not have friends i had flowers and plants

you only visit me in my dreams, where i can’t beat the daylights out of you

why is it that when
sun dips
into dark ponds
i let you back into my bed
with no recall
of the damage that
you caused
i don’t want to die young
i don’t want to die
sunless
in the dark
every night
you slowly remove my vertebrae
smiling
laughing
//i wake up paralyzed//

 

you only visit me in my dreams, where i can’t beat the daylights out of you

Line/Lone

the moment is unclear to all but the sand
upon which the line was drawn
the silver outline in/the dark
1am in the morning
the fans wurrr intensity towards it
beer feels like nothing at all but bitter
the dark heaves itself a little
places a plastic bag over your head and says
breathe

you breathe deep/and close your eyes
plastic hugs your face
tender
that’s when the dark disappears/and you see the wurrr wurrr/sand is disturbed flying
FROM UNDER YOUR SHIFTING LEGS
breathe
CLOSER
civilization holds your face
TENDER
breathe
the sand is numb/poison was always this easy
breathe
slowly choke yourself to death
THE DARK SLIDES INSIDE YOUR CHEST AND SAYS!
FLY
LIKE SON OF INVENTORS
LIKE SAND
LIKE DUST
LIKE LOST MOMENTS
the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines and the lone

Line/Lone