Thursday, October 8, 2015


You open yourself
to the unkind,
(until you bleed,
legs wide apart)
the tapestries and
cathedrals of color,
of nausea and taste;
simultaneous Gods
eating the moon
from the phalanx of the living.

The living never accorded
beauty- only fruits and
costumes of mediocre clowns.

Punched together in a darkroom
of ribbons-
red, nervous,black handed,
bleeding daguerreotype and
Cleopatra's imagined ass.

Kneeling in Parisian boots and
Hollywood bibles upside down,
when their own throats are
injured with cigarettes
bought for cheap in a stolen
car (from a middle class
nightmare), from a middle-aged salesman
inside a television,

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