AN IMAGE TO DEGRADE THE MIRROR:
my eye is a wolf’s mouth.
A man, nude, marbled, kneels in the darkened sanctuary of a church.
His back arches, prickles. He is electrocuted, awakened to life like Frankenstein’s monster.
He pees himself.
Thus, he collapses onto his kneeler in spiritual bliss.
Awaken! Pee in your undies!
FALL INTO A LAKE
I DON’T MEAN SEEING
THE CONVENIENT METAPHOR
CONVULSIONS. DANCE. I AM.
MY LA PIETA FANTASY,
A DEAD BROTHER,
A COBAIN ALTAR.
AT YOUR ALTAR
MYSELF INTO SOMETHING ELSE.
slavering like a strip tease, inch by inch
take off your
a wolf’s head rise
from my remains
watch my human arm
as I reach back inside
my body, like a loop
and wave through the wolf’s mouth.
where is your novel, girl?
your device to concuss.
knocked out of yourself
blown right out of your shoes.
other people, other people, other people….
a melody played in your dreams,
that infamous brown note.
you never people watch on trains.
AN IRRADIATED HOUSE
ON A DESOLATE PLANET.
I SIT IN FRONT OF THE DOOR, CROSS-LEGGED,
& BANG MY HEAD.
I CANNOT TALK ANY MORE (STAY ANY LONGER)
TONIGHT (NOW), FOR THIS PAIN
a cockroach behind my eye
a poem should be like
the pitfalls of experimentation and sadness….
this is a preface for the fact that i do not read enough books
i love u library
but i am so tired
the life sucked out of me
sit up straight
yr brain has the same ekg readout
as a bowl of jello.
what i mean is the rattling of the cicadas outside my window.
i have stood under their tree a long time, let their song
snow through me.
they are hungry, focused, lonely with it.
they call, they call, they call—
in their song i was pulled until static.
each bone slid out.
it was easy. it was
a hurt i am not allowed to say.
Henry Michaux said this too. let bugs impregnate him.
yes, let them crawl. it is easy in an empty room.
express yourself, express yourself
the way women lactate in supermarkets
after hearing a baby cry, even if it is not their own.
imagine, please, the aqueous humor of the inner-eye.
imagine a containment that sustains.
imagine an expression that changes.
imagine tears of ink and milk and silver;
they are all coming out of the same place.
i make a phone call to friends for bereavement,
they die mid-ring.
i look into the mirror & leak.
to say this, here on paper is to leak similarly.
you might as well have a sty.
a poem is a mirror
that will not work. sexton’s rat’s star.
it’s something you do, like an instinct,
jumping off a bridge.
write your poems, girl.
- Photo of the greenhouse where the body of Kurt Cobain was found. April 8, 1994.
- Reference to a line from the letters of Emily Dickinson with unknown recipients (letter 187), commonly known as “The Master Letters.”
- “Man wearing rubber boots.” Shocking video man eaten by python in Indonesia. Posted by Mohd Amir. Youtube. 2017. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BgkDTJzCTok. Author’s screenshot.