Sunday, November 30, 2008

honeycomb & wild apples & starships

like fiery-eyed troublemakers
running through the thick
of
an early morning dream
a faint taste
like
dead batteries
at the top of my throat

maybe,
the bitterness of honey

rub your wrists together
strain your fingers apart
the amber
running to
the crook of
barely splayed
fingers

one knuckle
two knuckles

dancing with your feet locked
with your knees locked
hinging/unhinging
its your neck that does the
rocking
like
wild apples
on tender thin branches
like starships
'round
black holes

two knuckles
three knuckles

Friday, November 7, 2008

no tooth has loosed itself

so many dreams about loose teeth. chipped. uprooted. rotting. spitting them out. one. spittouh. two. spittouh. three. spittouh. they fall before i can catch them. lost in grass. down the drain. swallowed.

your face is a blur. an amalgamation of sky and skin. strands of hair across your face. only a mouth and chin. but i know its you. i assume its you. i question if its you. i dont think its you. but i tell myself, its you.

where does this toothless hole and that eyeless face meet? where does it all come together? where are the lines drawn? a promise made on the riverbank is still a promise before the forgotten kings of the cold and trembling caverns.

sometimes i wake in a sweat. sometimes i wake with an erection. usually i have to piss. with an erection.

the point is.

the point is.

the point is... is that this verse chorus verse is killing me almost as much as im killing you.