Apr 4, 2011


In the empire of the greys
disappearing by degrees

snow in your face, please
I must get in to see

What your daddy did,
the other two

fingers, what I can remember
a washboard of blood

Siren’s song played
backwards as I forget

the spokes of the saw-
mill, the tongues of bland

cards & their cancerous lines
of fire ants

blat blat blat of a rubber
bulb horn, as long

as I can remember, in nested
circles in the twilight

hood, the town’s bad parts
exposed for pleasure

The stiff weeds that are a line
down the rickety

street like a torso, talking,
limbless in there where

cymbals bleat go ahead
make my angel

food cake for the host
of lost days, a grey metal

table & cloth that rips
like God, everything

I can remember, exposed
out on the floor

a red stair, a rubber
mallet, a sinister form

I can’t
fill out.

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