Lonely Place

I see you go by
Once in a while.
Why did you
Let me break?
I was always
Good to
You. I need you to
Save me...

They came by,
Gave me a
Notice, told
Me I was
No good to
Anyone
Anymore,
An eyesore in the
Community.
Can you believe
Them!?

I guess you can...

You're not here...

I was here before any of
Them, I am the
Last of my kind,
Sure I let myself
Go a little, but
I am still
Beautiful... right?

What happened to
Christmas? To mowing
The lawn? To all of 1997?
Where did I go wrong?
When did our bond sour?

I may have kept too many secrets
From you... about her...
Please forgive me! They're coming...

Save me!
My darling, they've
Brought their
Yellow behemoths.
They've come to
Demolish me, within
Steely maws, and
Coal-belching coughs.

I'm scared... master...

I want you to know,
As my dying wish,
I've never had a
Better owner,
Not since my
Building. Please,
Tell your
Children about
Me, I think
They would've
Liked me.

I thank you, and
Love you,
Even in your
Abandonment.

Imagination And Reality: I Love You

Narrow stairs mark my descent
Into an evening bedroom
Where a coy rapture
Lies in jubilant
Thralldom
Slowly winding amongst
Fragrant oxbows of
Smoke, hissing from
The tip of some
Incense's
Embered tongue.
We will be together
All night,
She breathes, and
Off we sway, in
Sweat and friction,
Passion and touch,
Until infinity is
Impossible, and
It ends. And though
We now lay amongst
Waxen darkness
All splayed and entwined,
It's three words spoken
By you
That reach down into the my
Chest, three words like warm hands
Wrapping with gentle tightness about
My heart, that then bristle up under
My skin until all I can do to quell it is
Embrace you. It is with that phrase
That I rise above all pervious carnal joy,
And am reminded of what made all that tussling
Wonderful.

And then I woke up.

Road Spirit

I came upon a
Road Spirit
Last evening as
I drove on a
Highway
Jacketed by an
Ashen haze.
I caught its
Misty huddle,
Touched only by the
Fuzzy edge of my
Vehicle's vision.
Its construct,
An arrangement of
Dull orange
Crescents
Forming the faint
Outline of what could be
Human. Equally
Apprehensive, we
Passed through
Each other at 80 m.p.h.
And as I inhaled
The vapor of its
Body, I knew
The euphoria
Of death.

The Moment You Know You're...

Where am I? Can
You tell me?
Your dilapidated voices
Aren’t telling me a
Thing…
Hello!!!
I can’t lift my
Eyelids to look
At you…
Annemarie!?
Darling, I hear your voice,
A lachrymal spear,
Hurtling towards me and
Now… away. Never in
My life
Have I heard you so
Sorrowed.

What is this great
Pressure now? Some
Tenebrous
Compressor making
The darkness even
Darker…


I’ve heard that in
Complete
Silence,
You can hear your
Brain
Throbbing. Well,
They must be
Wrong. I can’t
Hear a thing.

Elevation,
Release?
Truth?
I CAN SEE!!!
The Sandman must’ve been
Working doubletime… my eyes
Felt like pearls in sealed
Clay shells.

Ah, but that’s of
No concern now,
I can hear the
Band. Keep on
With that
Sweet Zydeco,
Somehow more
Heavenly than
I remember…
I’ll just traipse-dance
My way down
Bourbon Street…

But then it
Stopped me,
I remember it
So clearly.
A glimpse into a puddle…
Such a bustle in the reflection,
Had I been so distracted
Not to notice?
The Zydeco’s tongue fell limp,
And Bourbon Street was
Cavernous and shivering.

I’m dea…

†
1945- 1970

The Cyclical Schadenfreude Of Revolution

Stomp!
To the cadence
And beat of
An oildrum.
March! Yes,
Let your
Pores
Cry.
It's that sweet
Sweat, seeping from
Mr. Backbroken and
Mrs. Thimblethumbs
That fills our
Encrusted chalice,
Gulped down,
Then spat back
Upon your
Slumlands.
Let it fill your
Wells and
Rivers, our
Spittum,
Clear and
Unsuspecting.
You'll drink it,
You'll kill us,
You'll become us,
You'll love it,
And when He comes back,
He'll be none the
Wiser.

Atlas Shattered... Her

It began

With small

Things,

Things

One is scant to notice

A calf stillborn,

Brand new

Wheelbarrows

Rusting over.

These were shrugged

Off,

But She was

Trying to

Tell us...

Its now much

Later. We've

Come to the

Apex. We can't

Go any higher.

This is

It. The

Breaking

P

O

I

N

T

.

.

.

I can smell the

Burning

The skeletons

Are marching

To Zion

It’s coming

That great

Wrath.

I should've done

Something

I had heard her

Crying

In a dream.

We were

Dives, and she

Lazarus, and

Atlas is

Dear Abraham,

Pul-

- ling

Her away

From our

Scorching

Tongue.

And as

I awake,

She thought

It fit to

Finish this.

So it happened.

A sweep of

Shadow fouled

Our fields

With plague.

Oceans and lakes

Burst with second-long

Phosphorescence

And were

Aflame.

She became

The Tower of

Babel, we

Became

Feral,

And in one

Final

SCREAM!

Opened new

Canyon to

Expose her

Innermost

Bosom.

Oh how the

Earth died

Screaming

As her

Abraham

Tore her to

Pieces.

Where's the

Bounty he

Promised?