images

silver spoons chiming like small bells colliding hollow
trying to swallow what he said
silver trout jumped onto the back of a blue heron
fish fly
defying gravity and the slippery quality of skin on featherbed
running down the train to mississippi,
child sees fish flying, trying to get ahead
never dying, a miracle
one, two, three spoons for my medicine--aspirin melting in the
hot water, clouding the hollow curve
lies burn in the fiery furnace like glass and the master
uses iron tongs to bring forth a tongue,
a gun, a calypso, a rose, a bed, a foreign film,
laying them on the newspaper like a surgeon playing operation
child's game and machiavelli says save the lies for
a time when it matters most
plunder the pile of stones and sharp pieces
with silver spoons
dig through the open grave with care
archeologists found her waiting there
with one palm on the soil
one on a glass of champagne
staking a claim
weathervanes in his mind cutting up the dopamine
cutting up the plans and the hands
she is a devil, a witch, we must
keep her down and without funds
make certain she is without means and without escape
she is the taliban of our system
she is the undoing of our games
she is kamikazee, she is hezbollah pride
the ira and ulster in arms,
this is one to freeze out, who we will make pay
we will be sure she is on the list
our red list of commies, and agitators
keep money from lining her pockets,
keep friends from lending their support
let her dig into our battlefields
with silver spoons used to cut grapefruit
it should keep her busy while we away with our plans
and keep our shirts intact
what if, of these doors, one will be a blue heron, wings?
a true friend thinking in times ahead her company will be good enough to keep
a lover waiting for the results before going ahead, letting
others take her by the wrists, nailing the ties to the tracks
spoons in her pocket, fish flying by,
she will die with friend and foe riding the same train
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socks

family looks like a sock inside out
worn for a week while camping
holding in the sand and useless
for protection from thorns, burrs, and insects
wanting nothing more than to be
washed. washed from it. cleaner than
my feet, thinking "alas! we have been used for
such dirty things"
pulled off, stiff and smelling bad
"it's the bad company we keep" they whisper
to eachother, while the feet are thinking
is it even worth the washing?
or should i just throw them into the trash?
who keeps socks like these?
who mends socks with a needle and a patch
for every little tear and hole
when they are so thin
to begin with
they say "we've been trampled on"
i ask if they ever knew their purpose to begin with
did they think i was only wearing them
with my feet raised on the arm of a chair
book in my hand, feet to the fire, keeping
them warmed and cozy and even, entertained by a
movie or two
wanted to be facing the sunset from the deck
and smelling of lavendar from the drawer
wanting to be used for anything but
camping, running, and skiing
"we are not so athletic, adventuress, or free"
not wanting to be used at all
preferring to stay in the plastic wrap
the feet are so selfish to think this way
when it was the responsibility of the feet to wear shoes
"the feet never think about our needs" say the socks
forgetting that the feet cannot choose
when there are robbers on the banks and by the door
when it is necessary to move
in whatever state they are in
the socks seem to think this is fun for the feet
to feel the bruise, to be cut, and to lose
everything
the last thing the feet needs are talking socks
grumbling, whining, lecturing the feet about staying
indoors where it is always safe and warm
the socks look alright, most of the time,
until they are turned inside out
they so resent the exposure
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falcon flack talking back to one in charge
ripping off the superman cape
putting on goggles for his escape
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you say it best when you say nothing at all...alison krause, perfect song for insinuating one talks too much. a gentle and considerate way of saying "shut up!"
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ball and chain dismayed looks like a mummy
or frankenstein, trudging down the hall
dragging handcuffs, metal ropes, and reaching
out to strangle a neck. eyes like the holes for
an owl's head, and a mouth set like a transformer
into a thin grim line
what's wrong? is something the matter?
more than the dog must have died and i am
still saying i will climb the hills of the
cemetary and jump the headstones like hurdles
wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
watch me everee-bodeee!
striking a match on one grave to light my
olympic torch
if you don't love me you could have said so
it's difficult, this "for better or worse" thing
so necessary for the procreation of liberty
and other imaginary things
if one chooses to sleep in another bed
must be prepared to hear the thoughts from another head
something besides
aahh! and OH! and yes!
fie, fi, foe comes next
mirror mirror on the wall, who's the strongest one of all?
wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!
watch me everee-bodeee!
some go to their grave with a frown
others will go with a grin
i'm quite capable of discontent, does this mean i win?
i love you dearly, love you darling, even in your sin
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grand scheme like a renaissance painting
in comes the kid with the bright red brush
they look so pale! says she, so dull!
i will give them lips of lust and roses on their trees
the men should all have a moustache
it is the 70s and we are keeping in touch
with the times.
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i save my lies, for needed times
like the great depression
when everyone is wearing black but the bride
who has decided to wear red
or yellow or bright barney purple
for the grandmother
why not turn it into a charity event
with everyone paying to rent a seat
to see the flower dog trailing sparkles
across the aisle
nothing written means a thing without the meaning
constitutions, decrees, laws,
with no one to enforce anything
we are free to do as we please, and change as we may
why cling to constancy without an enforcer
parents lose their children
when workers don't follow the law
and think other vows keep better?
hosea took a bride who was unfaithful
kept taking her back
maybe this state of the union
is best symbolized by temporary committments
or the idea that everything serious
should be taken lightly
by the rabbits foot
i don't want this for the little girl
who caked blush on her cheeks
but for me, maybe i will take the place of hosea
in his time and find a way to remind
those who need reminding
what this has come to
a mockery
has nothing to do with me but with the condition
of things
yet who can say what my true intent is
therein lies my heart
if i want i can lie to your face and be telling the truth
or be telling the truth in a lie
no one is capable of knowing what is sincere
not really
it's just that i thought
for the longest time
that most people were naive, like me
believed, in everything
true to their word, faithful in every attempt to deed
i keep seeing sharp "v"s on a heart screen
low lows and high highs
i don't see the straight line
will someone find me before i do
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i don't know you but someone tells me to speak to you
about dancing mobiles for puppetry
playing piano tandem while she wore a pink dress
fingers trailing across the keys
at night, making figures with shadows on your wall
taking a bow at breakfast
a black and white dog following a ball
into the snowfall of leaves
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inching like a crinkly worm
wobbly eyes, colorful skin
to daddy's face for a kiss
little girl with the world
on her wristband, handing over
a most beloved toy
thank you comes every day
in unexpected ways
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oreo for halloween
and milk decided to go along
preferring to be the thin one
getting through the doorways
without a jam
hamming it up, passing out
oreos like an adverstising group
making fun of the
sloppy sandwich
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i will always love you
making me want to kill you
do you harm for leaving me
unarmed
want to see you strung out
vein to vein on a wooden cross
want to hang you on my wall
where i can talk to you
where you might answer my prayers
you could be jesus christ
if you really wanted to be, asshole
you have a choice to be jesus loves me
i don't want this invisible
carrying me across the sand crap
like i could map that
i'm putting thumbtacks on the united states
killing every capital
with a voodoo curse
that will bring me back to you
whether you LIKE it or NOT
fucker
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lucid and seeing more with cabernet sauvignon
percocet is one sure bet for killing some kind of backache
bending over backwards for who the hell knows what
all of the beautiful married sluts of the world
thinking they are so much better than the single sluts
we're all sluts, even gloria steinem was a slut in both
her before and after photos
before: single slut
after: married slut
hooray for the rallying cry of feminists across the world
sluts for justice! sluts for equal sluttiness!
single sluts deserve to be respected as much as married sluts
married sluts deserve to equal pay to single sluts
somehow, for some reason, married women never have to worry
about being cited for prostitution
i heard once, that an officer was going to arrest a married woman
for having sex with her husband after he bought her a diamond ring.
TOTAL prostitution and the facts speak
they had to throw it out because she had a license to be a slut
goddamn that woman! i hate her and all her kind
guess i'm joining her and all her kind
we're all just rinds
skin on fruit, and these men are all pimps and get better social
recognition if they are full-time paying pimp daddies
hey joe, bring your ho to the office party
no one ever says, "I met his ho, and she's such a lovely woman"
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pull down the star attached to the string and it bounces up to the ceiling, hits, and boings up and down fast, until it slows, or sometimes it tangles with the sliver of moon hanging on a nearby hook. I would grab you in motion but you might cry. I feel you behind me every day, all the time. Arms around me from behind. Someone will find me from above and beyond and wonder at my good luck, that I struck out.
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