Sunday, December 03, 2006

forest hill aubade

seems any old abattoir foghorn makes you scurry your
shadow aping some testing rodent the plastic coffee-
cup & the platonic engagement you seek just myth
all convenient thoroughfares will disappear or whisper
hints of gasoline you know you can’t escape i like to
grow hard of a workday & worry the caress of mosquitos
away with my own hand a simple command to the dog
this says living like no other minor-farce courting
publication courting your teasing closetoyouness
it smells of ruin sometimes & if you're saying that
to hurt me i like it seriously & do it again
slaughter the animals we flambé with jazz
all the while thinking of our terms of engagement
everyone leaves emotional shit hanging over doors
& little alleys you clomp down them a mess of heat
it’s the flipside of love descending in a way i
always paint in those inconsequential puzzles
but then people etch out money too so for now
just show me what later sounds like in the nude

1 comment:

didi said...

Jesus Christ everytime I have read this I feel as if you are writing about me but I know you could not know me that well. Whose muse is this dedicated to? Please do tell. I am curious.