BUILDING THE SANCTUARY OF NEURAL CIRCUITS

Cells that look like crushed roses
a world that rots at your fingertips in full bloom
disharmonious being lampooned
by a courtyard of orderly stars

there's a molting fern bird on a doorstep waiting
the criminal circuitry of smashed bathrooms
and worlds that should have nothing to do with one another
veins coalescing in garage corners
the imprint of a fish left in my hand by the passing sun
and nobody left to talk to in the busted canyon

exhausted fields sprouting scarecrows of impossible oil
froth sound of cymbals
for a shy one in fevered rooms
cemetery yards overturned
bulbs veining claws into the desperate fertility

a small building's implosion of tongues
business talk on an umbilical phone
outside the sung apocalypse, inside the solitary end

mercy's avocado, pomegranate sting
forked claws of artichoke leaves
gulls croaking on rocks around a compost pile
coffee grounds insomniac mirage
tomorrow's newspaper flame-torn
in a ring of peppered glass
a quartz lily spotted with moons
to fountain past the thud back of the eyes

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