Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The Closing Hour for Her

her nail polish made her fingertips look like jade
and she painted watercolor landscapes on her window shades
and she only drank tequila in pink lemonade
but she'd make the saddest man fake a smile

she had extra tall veins popping out of her hands
and she only knew two songs from all her favorite bands
and she'd talk about how much she hated their fans
and the worthlessness of what they call 'style'

she rode the bus every morning and the train every night
she said just because she liked the change of the light
when she wakes the train's boring but going home the bus is bright
and it stings her eyes when she sleeps

she kept all her favorite body parts in little mason jars
her toe nails, skin tags, and parts of her scars
she flossed with piano strings and strummed on guitars
and said, "at least this one gently weeps."

she had bull frogs hopping all around the kitchen
and her aunt lived in the attic and she'd run down bitchin'
about the walls that're moldy and her towel that's gone missin'
and the rust at the end of the hose

and the Mustang in the half shed was forty years old
with a cherry red finish and the edges in gold
and the sign on the windshield said, 'gone but not sold'
but she knows that everything goes

Tuesday, June 07, 2011

Just Now

every step I take
up this staircase
is one more step
I'll have to deal with
when I fall down

a ball
will only roll
in one direction
if your world
is just that slanted

you can't wake yourself up
if it's a nightmare
you can only pray the nightmare
wakes you up

words are empty
words have no weight
the trick is to make sure
your thoughts are heavy

City Boxer

walking bloody
damp and muddy
making change for scars
rigging games
exchanging names
taking bets in bars
slip your tongue
around your lungs
and preach to lesser scum
live the dream
and drown the steam
in sterile shots of rum
tie your laces
work your faces
tell the biggest lie
dance with punches
shake the touches
sell them all they'll buy
smokes for dollars
shots for hollers
bring the donkey down
you can manage
tear the bandage
off the wretched town

Monday, June 06, 2011

Clay and Castles and Temples

In the end
there is only one bond left
connecting us
to the underworld
and back again:

a single thread of yarn
used to hold water together.