the car crashed through the living
room, i saw lights wash over behind
mom, standing in front of me, in diet,
telling me about how it all hurts, how
it all hurts on herself, i saw it coming
and i thought how lucky, mom,
the hurt to end all hurts is coming,
just for us, God's Christmas gift,
how good, the hate to end all hate
is love, salvation, planned accidents.
as slow as snails go
mother can't handle
the truth, that awful
glide of the knife across
the perfect package
only humans will grind
perfect beans into dirt
cook the raw
water it down
jesus christ, mom
he faulted once, twice,
jesus christ, he'll do it again
how good the morning coffee
smells, how sour in the mouth
mother can't handle
no cream, no sugar
mother can't handle real
coffee, the way it tastes
and the way it goes down,
as slow as snails go.
the truth, that awful
glide of the knife across
the perfect package
only humans will grind
perfect beans into dirt
cook the raw
water it down
jesus christ, mom
he faulted once, twice,
jesus christ, he'll do it again
how good the morning coffee
smells, how sour in the mouth
mother can't handle
no cream, no sugar
mother can't handle real
coffee, the way it tastes
and the way it goes down,
as slow as snails go.
before the world ended, on the subway
The man is shouting ROCKETS OUT OF YOUR EYEBALLS and i think
the apocalypse.
People try to move away from him, and he does too, fingers trying to pry
open the train car's window. I think he might jump. I think I'll look away
if he does, rockets out of my eyeballs.
the apocalypse.
People try to move away from him, and he does too, fingers trying to pry
open the train car's window. I think he might jump. I think I'll look away
if he does, rockets out of my eyeballs.
if i keep knocking
where the shock hits me i stand.
there is no running, i have no need.
i take the music of the slap and punch
in me. the sun cooks the water on soil.
i thank God for this and cry with gratitude
and pain. there is always pain.
even the oldest bruises
resist the fade.
God has found me here, so i must be dead.
amazing soul.
there is no running, i have no need.
i take the music of the slap and punch
in me. the sun cooks the water on soil.
i thank God for this and cry with gratitude
and pain. there is always pain.
even the oldest bruises
resist the fade.
God has found me here, so i must be dead.
amazing soul.
neruda 51, my love eulogy
gleams of your teeth ornament the christmas trees.
beauty is your mouth opening wide, ready to bite.
you eat all the trees. they fall, one long moaning,
'tis the season, the season, 'tis the season.
you laugh. you laugh like it costs nothing to laugh,
it is all fun, it is all fun for you, like white snow.
like the white snow will always be white, forever,
like the bride you will always be, forever.
you come to me with light like the morning sun,
slink and press your light up on me in bed,
refuse me sleep. you are always white.
my bride. you come to me, laughing.
you scare the birds and they abandon me,
and i am alone with your mouth, opening wide.
beauty is your mouth opening wide, ready to bite.
you eat all the trees. they fall, one long moaning,
'tis the season, the season, 'tis the season.
you laugh. you laugh like it costs nothing to laugh,
it is all fun, it is all fun for you, like white snow.
like the white snow will always be white, forever,
like the bride you will always be, forever.
you come to me with light like the morning sun,
slink and press your light up on me in bed,
refuse me sleep. you are always white.
my bride. you come to me, laughing.
you scare the birds and they abandon me,
and i am alone with your mouth, opening wide.
half and half
what hurts the most is when people think they are trying to save a drowning body. i have found my comfort here, again, in the water. i'm sinking and i'm sunk and there are no words for the white noise packing into my ears. it feels like sometimes i don't need air. and it is fine to be born a fish, as it is fine to be born a human, but it is harder to be born half fish, half human because there i am, half and half and nothing at all recognizable. there are others like me and we all hide, because we are not like the mermaids in the fairy tales, we are ugly and we are unsightly and we don't like upsetting the fish and the humans. and we are separated because we don't like upsetting each other. we are lonely, but on good days we play, shaking our tail and waving our hand out at the swimmers to keep their fantastical mermaid dreams alive. on the good days they go home thinking they are lucky. what a wonder, to see the beginning of a dream, and what good fortune, to not have to stay for the nightmare that follows.
neruda 53, personalized
here are the necessities for life:
the man, the woman, their bread,
their wine, their table, their house.
a common scene, peacefully lit.
but tonight my parents spoke again
of divorce and all i could hear was
the silence of their words passing
in the basement, two floors below.
what of this love song, neruda,
and where are your dancers now?
my dancers are fighting late into the night,
every night, and both have become injured.
blood combined can separate and attack:
the body stands a tender witness
to the running violence of rejection.
this is the simple and the endless.
the man, the woman, their bread,
their wine, their table, their house.
a common scene, peacefully lit.
but tonight my parents spoke again
of divorce and all i could hear was
the silence of their words passing
in the basement, two floors below.
what of this love song, neruda,
and where are your dancers now?
my dancers are fighting late into the night,
every night, and both have become injured.
blood combined can separate and attack:
the body stands a tender witness
to the running violence of rejection.
this is the simple and the endless.
neruda 54, it's too late and i'm too tired to make this make sense
good delirious afternoon! my mind
is a clusterfuck of shit and cum,
the devil and his city grime
splay open my solitude:
is something about doves, and fire,
and food, and fucking honor
then shall you and i ascend to heaven,
nude against reason and bathed in life,
dreaming furiously, hammered in the river.
we're drunk, is that it? we fed each other
certain bitters, cracked our glasses.
we read the horoscopes for gemini: rosy
future looks with love, flies on two wings...
but you're a pisces, and i a libra.
is a clusterfuck of shit and cum,
the devil and his city grime
splay open my solitude:
is something about doves, and fire,
and food, and fucking honor
then shall you and i ascend to heaven,
nude against reason and bathed in life,
dreaming furiously, hammered in the river.
we're drunk, is that it? we fed each other
certain bitters, cracked our glasses.
we read the horoscopes for gemini: rosy
future looks with love, flies on two wings...
but you're a pisces, and i a libra.
neruda 55, fraction of a child's cry, mama take me back to where you woke me
in these briar prisons built in war
a plague spreads like spoiled honey,
the sick and dying bound by ivy,
low on sleep and running on empty
here, daily dreams of the fatigued:
spoons of painkillers of various colors.
a bed for the night, a destination for the day.
legs to walk on, or hands to crawl with.
eyes closed now to conjure a body
apart from this one drowning...
what a folly do i make of resistance!
river river flow flow
along with you i will go
take my body and my soul
a plague spreads like spoiled honey,
the sick and dying bound by ivy,
low on sleep and running on empty
here, daily dreams of the fatigued:
spoons of painkillers of various colors.
a bed for the night, a destination for the day.
legs to walk on, or hands to crawl with.
eyes closed now to conjure a body
apart from this one drowning...
what a folly do i make of resistance!
river river flow flow
along with you i will go
take my body and my soul
neruda 56, stripped and redressed
behind me the shadow waves sailed,
storming out from your angry hands,
and i felt my sea turning underneath,
frozen crystalline. so sank your ship
and all its captains, hungry roars and cries
drowned one by one by that silent magnanimity.
i broke the ice to retrieve you, breathing life into you
with gentle syllables of my love, and resuscitated you.
i carried you to shore and laid you under
the sun, and saw the sky flowering blue
in your kindling newborn eyes
and we lay there on land, quietly alive,
my fingers harvesting by day and night
the windblown wheatfield atop your head.
storming out from your angry hands,
and i felt my sea turning underneath,
frozen crystalline. so sank your ship
and all its captains, hungry roars and cries
drowned one by one by that silent magnanimity.
i broke the ice to retrieve you, breathing life into you
with gentle syllables of my love, and resuscitated you.
i carried you to shore and laid you under
the sun, and saw the sky flowering blue
in your kindling newborn eyes
and we lay there on land, quietly alive,
my fingers harvesting by day and night
the windblown wheatfield atop your head.
neruda 57
have i lost the moon, stranded in the desert?
for i know that is what you had heard
spat out by cold-blooded oracles
waiting on the demise of our universe.
i will not sing the sweet siren song.
tonight you have no one to sing to,
they say, their hands tearing me
apart from my guitar, my oblivion.
i stare after them with only our love in mind,
and in mind ran to chase after you, following
the scent of jasmine flowers you left behind.
i fell missing the sight of your eyes. in the morning
when i woke, i awakened with the light owed
to a blind man, starving in his darkness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
