big time cat fancier

16.3.08

For The Canary In A Mine Without A Voice

From fingers of dynamite to
the head, like arching fireworks,
only more or maybe less, given
the context, deadly, you
die with a sculpted look
of shame and excitement on your
face. like when you ate a
birdbath full of cocoa-puffs
for breakfast, but puked it,
all murky swamp water and
lingering taste, on my
astronomy professor yesterday.
You said he reminded you of
a rain cloud without all the
sadness.

we saw three train cars,
their little hooks like locked
fingers, head for Massachusetts
and then held coffee on our noses
and said hello in a language
we didn't normally speak. You
love music that beats tire
marks and barb wire spindles
on the inside of your fingers,
that was your sensitive spot,
you said. I told you that was
really flavorless, but I meant
something else.

your shirt said, I like the
car chase. Then, lifting a
hammer and chisel, I cut you
a new brain. The blood made
heart on my shirt. Or maybe
just an upside down triangle.
Then you bought an orange
and split it for the two of
us and later when we got high
i said, i love you, and you
said, and I said i love you,
and you said what, and i said
i love you and you said, what
and I said, I love you and you
said what i said was i love you
and you said i love you and what
i said was what and I love you
and I love you and what and, and
we slept like children in pills
in a house that was already on fire.

2 comments:

  1. jesus. the second half of the second half is really extra lovely.

    ReplyDelete
  2. where are these coming from? they are so sudden and exciting. they are so sudden.

    :)))))) (that's a happy face with extra chins that look like smiles)

    ReplyDelete