Apr 24, 2014


A hole in the smile
is a window for breath;
a house torn down
is a victory of sorts
for the human who can learn
to live on the face
of the earth.  Sans eyes
a cleft face is like
a fruit tree, the cyan
bubble of a bottle
reflects ghost eyes,
a boom mike, the hidden
author of the narrative;
under the gown the body
is someone else, a story
like clothes; bound to
change—a wall torn down
is still
a wall torn down
no matter what.
Blessed art thou among fences
& gates, and blessed is the fruit
 of olive drab. I cannot hear you.
I wish for parties, baseline fortitude,
many graces & sexual favors.

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