Death’s a mysterious lover.
When you pine for it, nothing,
when the least expected,
it comes knocking.

You can party with it.
Crimson robes & black crown.
Many teeth you can’t see.
Better savor that last kiss.

All systems going defunct,
back to the factory where they’ve come.
Various methods of degradation.
At least the builder knows recycling.

You’re drowsy, time for a shut-eye.
Spotlight dims, bar opens all night.
Traveling between some blurry lines,
looking for something that’s inside.

Come back, show me the design.
Mark it, so I can rest.
Comfort me, with your intent.
Then again, it’d just make me sad.

I can’t cry my own tears,
so I find someone else’s.
You have to be perfect though,
sorry we can’t be friends.

Vision of you disguising me
is what I really need.
Tried searching for Jesus,
guess he didn’t fit the box.

Need to get out now,
all these so called tragedies.
Heard another call
& the heart’s finally calm.

It’s been so long,
have been fine with the buzzing sounds.
Here’s looking at you, kid,
how about that second round?

Yesterday:
—
Had a little flesh wound,
looks like a piece of damaged styrofoam.
Lots of little things are working
to make me round and whole again.

What are they trying to promote?
Why work so hard on my meat and bones?
Look, it’s all glittering & pink,
I’m kinda adorable underneath.


Today:
—
It now looks like a rotten apple,
a little brown as the skin tries to heal.
A layer of meat that was affected.
Nerves are still red in protest.

The white cells are doing their job,
so are millions of other things I don’t know of.
Even the microbes in the air are helping out.
Imagining the dramas as a broadway show.


1 day later:
—
Now it looks like a crater,
hard scab surrounds a raspberry middle.
You’re pretty again,
makes me want to make more of you.

Just kidding though,
not into that kinda pain.
Though next time I swing a stick
I won’t mind a little scrape.

I’m non-committal,
my soul’s not in this.
I learn the rules,
I copy the books,
but my soul’s not in this.
I need to fill the purse,
I need new clothes,
but where did my soul go?

Why won’t it show?
What had gone wrong?
My heart’s on the ground.
I look for clues, nobody knows.
It must be shattered,
no longer in this world.
Where did you go, my friend?
Where did you go?

It happens in a weird second,
time collapses & expands.
Can’t describe it
for fear of forgetting.
It’s morning, evening, night.

Had a dream carried us away
would we notice?
Or the bad things happen
so we can remain?
It’s a hot second,
then life turns away.

Another day, parked cars on the street.
Another day, everyone hides in their cave.
The bewitching hour
when the land takes a breath,
you feel it,
the cosmic smile.

As I sit on the toilet,
look out into the bedroom,
the fur rug’s sunning,
all curly and golden.
Who’s this creator sheep
that lived and made this?
Then gave it up with its hide besides?
Did it enjoy the sun while it grazed?
Was it ok with getting killed for meat?
Did it father any lambs?
Or was it milked many times?
How old was it when it’s led
to the place & had a bad day?

The rug was rained on yesterday.
Now it smelled like wet hay.
I don’t know you while you lived,
but I’m enjoying you nevertheless,
of your warmth & soft caress.
You probably don’t care,
I’m saying a little prayer.
Something comforting comes out of
someone being slaughtered.
It’s someone else’s life,
there’s only the fur that’s left.
It’s useful & has a price,
guess that’s all we can get.

Tell me a story,
give me a mood.
Hold me to sway.
Forget the world.

It’s not an intoxication,
it’s from the sea inside.
Want to know its origin?
Just look into my eyes.

Don’t need no sympathies,
just give me a baseline.
It may rise, it may fall,
we will see how it goes.

Familiar like a heartbeat,
novel like a suicide,
paint with ashes & fire,
cause ain’t nobody cares.

What are you saying now?
We can just stop?
The cloths can come off?
We can all be comfortable?

A woman of many needs,
at the right dosage & speed.
Can’t say I won’t leave.
Be more interesting & we shall see.