Friday, April 27, 2012

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A high brown sepulcher
with many bright nooks
on the way up from the dead
battery that was the sparking body
deep in its rectangle
limbs that climb like eyes
rafters that could've been its spine

The lightstream skydome
dissembled in triangular burdens
on a sleeping road, the inside of the mouth
lined with larval tigers
moccasins for the naked body
aroused, luna treading
wings fresh from a basement bath

Friend of my death, lift the windshield
from my half-eaten dials
let the microscopes and their nudging
small lasers that rustle within
purge forth to scatter these
weak instruments, highways clogged to breeding
with mute human beings.

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