Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Geese with microphones
lonely hills of sacred blowjob sites
from the ancient days
planet terraformed by the gaze
of a vibrating hermit,
bard fled from the ski lodge
on fire: belt strapped across the bridge
of the emperor nose, top lip sneering
in animal reawakening;
retreated to a force-field
of imaginary data.

And I hungered in the banquet
of his tower's basement,
betrayed by the binary tribes
in the binary time.

And the map dampened by blood
of long nights clung
to the edge of my gone bed
'til the fabric all round
wrang color and thickened and juiced.

All the flat combed lawns aburst with
purple water.  Leaking sky addresses.
Nicks that canyon when gazed upon.
Decapitations painted and repainted
during supper.  Tubs of the thousand
cast-off snakeskins, lights that hang
over the crust from long unbreakable wires
in the air of the embankment
belief in time, and the choreography
of history, or in this kissed mutt.
Worms of Zeus arcing soil:
the honks overhead reading their alphabet.