22 September 2006
male bear
burnd-open-letters
october 20, 2001
I continually fell on my hands in th garden
weeds wrapd in layers around my body
let myself be buryd and waitd for flowers
to grow – but only red shoots of anger
penetrated th black earth
I let them grow
reemerged from th soil under a blue sun
went back in th house and drank a pint
of whiskey. half asleep
in front of th television I dreamd of my father
being mauld by a bear –
he did not struggle as I would have liked him to
but his boots kickd th coals
I thought dead
and turnd me over again
I took to th hum
of tires on pavement – another fist in th fight
another face in th fire
8 th’anonymity of a stain passing on a double line weary eyed
no future in a dead world
current heaven telefoto blue
oh there were nights. th fragile
hangover. too late opend th front door
and faeries blew in. some small and quiet like mice,
others monstrous shadows
some nights turnd desire into pain
girls hung onto th jagd cliffs of bone as I roard at
crimson horizons from my front door
strangers at two a.m. bare-chestd and bleeding
come in. comets, cigarettes
and heart burn
awake to a grande. pink barrista, I feel
nervously alive as yr words rush over me
like steamd milk
staring deep
into th fate of coffee cups
by afternoon pick up at th battle of melancholia
a truly romantic battle – on th misty moors of
black June killer mumbles august, love, moves on,
says october solar system seems empty
creep creep creep creep in too young ex plosions
[ iron me
high in a tree
steel cables spun around
and around me ]
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this cable umbilical, mashes thro' the body here, to string me like a dollar store necklace...
or a Shamans' coup.
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or a Shamans' coup.
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