my face is as pale as moonlight’s whimper
to add more novocaine to the sky.
starlight caught in a rapture, sun, thin as a rubies soul;
this in loud words crashed my
thumping foot and a wrist on the side
i saw dangling white fence posts haunting me
shaping their sharp sides downward
into a beating heart
bellowing out a cello from the root vegetable garden
maybe i’m dying
ghastly coral and sleeping sharks
headless white horses
abruptly distorted by a vortex’s hot breath
a stallion swirl dipped into infinity
shrugged onto a butterflies wing
lined with poplar trees
goose mother and her little chicks
smothered beaks in chicken shit
an unorthodox ocean breeze
shaped like zeus with a cane leaning on a misguided flea
slips its tongue in between my knees
(a black magick hymn
a taxidermists hand
and stuffed my head with cotton
stolen from elliott’s southern belle).
mother becoming a quilt
stitched with antlers and wasp wings
broken tether string and a candle lit for every lover
tilting off the rocking chair
a creak. upward, a ceiling’s ominous stare.
a second creak. a tomorrow-preview, a cauldron of bubbling green clay, or molten lawn.
eye-traveling searching for new milk to pour
filling the branches
holy water for thirsty hell
the breathless autonomy of a stranger
their conviction of pain runs
a fan of fingers behind the peacock’s finesse
shoots out the knuckles
graffiti on the cathedral walls
incomprehensible gang markings on the rose garden path
and the dandelions roared
across your forearm.
(this loves me
this loves me not)
picking fleece for every zit,
mother gooses beak smeared in chicken shit.