At the Crossroads
One rose in a vase
sits next
to a sunflower.
A lime green light casts
out on
to the captain’s table.
The rose’s thorns
point lightly towards
the seedy black of a
turned in face.
Through my palms,
I receive
the stability not
of writing,
but of snatching
at the waist cord
of your dark green
bathing suit.
Inside the Marble Drawer of Oblivion
ON MY WAY TO SCATMANDU
“So, I tell the publisher I’m a synesthete
meaning, that when he entered the room
I smelled only opportunity, the memory of my mother’s powdered
cheeks emerging in
a Southern August rain.”
Collapse this fitted hysteria, paper draping you
around in steel tape—
I jump through sierras in my different egos.
Be aware of confusing provenance
and bullshit, or bullshit where you came from—right?
When it escalates, infiltration will
shore up
insurgency.
2.
With all that there is to be seen
in the cluster of seeing, precious bystander,
you unbidden torch,
this coke has a name on it,
that chip is a lonely chip
stranded in the cold snowless dip.
And tho we haven’t spoke
isn’t it enough that you were here 1st…?
The incalculable baby thought, dung-eyed
& fresh with a mouth open
like a surprise Silver Dollar.
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