i've plugged in the television
turned it to channel snow
with its steady raspy whisper
snow is cold
it comes during winter
like wet salt or cotton balls
its getting to be spring now
birds are starting to scream
and the air is damp and warm
channel snow will keep the smell
down, cover these bodies in my kitchen
with dusts of ice
you can get an orange extension cord
120 feet long for thirteen dollars
at home depot, a small pulley and two
bolts for eleven eighty five
every wednesday they'd stop by
the light, the word, some salvation
i'd asked them politely four weeks
in a row. four weeks. not to come
given the weight of the television
and the force it takes to separate
the metal prongs from the plug-in
i had to buy three zip ties
thought of it late so i stopped
at the drug store
mellisa has almond eyes and large breasts
a gold crucifix precariously tittering
on the verge of suicide canyon
since she turned nineteen i've joked about
her cross to bear and every friday night
around seven I buy a box of ribbed condoms
slid them across the counter and look deeply
into her, smiling
my hallway closet is full of unopened boxes
of unused condoms
my mother willed this house to me after
she died in her lazy boy, staring out
at the cracked parking lot on thomas
jefferson's birthday
we'd play chess together with the star
wars set she'd bought me when I was nine
before she died on thomas jefferson's
birthday
checkmate. she'd say. idiot.
she'd say. let's play again. i'd say.
built in the fifties the ceiling and walls
are flimsy and fake. its hard to find solid
studs for the pulley and bolts
and their arms and legs and heads are
in the way of my aluminum step latter
when their skin is chalky and faces sunken
its like moving giant frozen water balloons
that those clowns make for kids on weekends
just down the street
what was i supposed to do? these guys
nice suits nice faces nice words and always
the light, the word, some salvation
can't turn away the men of god that were
there at you're own mother's death chair
helping you change the green oxygen tank
before she sucked and wheezed and gurgled
and died on thomas jefferson's birthday
they'd brought their big black book
read it out loud next to her lazy boy
staring out the window at the cracked
parking lot and until the end she never
made a sound but towards the choking and
gurgling and suffocation she moaned and
nodded her head and rubbed her heart and
cried holding the nice man in his nice suit
with his nice voice and face and on thomas
jefferson's birthday
she leaned over to me and asked me to kneel
and pray next to her lazy boy and green tank
there wasn't any way to do it. i'd said. don't
know god or the right words or why i would. i'd said
that it wouldn't matter at any rate. you're going
to burn in hell just like your father. she'd said
i didn't see how that was pertinent. i'd said.
and on thomas jefferson's birthday
she died
i read on wikipedia that cyanide wasn't too bloody
or gruesome and made Rasputin's death rather colorful
in the accounts that followed. i barrow wireless internet
from my neighbors across the street using a series of large
squares of aluminum foil to reflect the signal into my bedroom
window, that always smells like old pumpkin pie
by all accounts, they'd said, the blood of christ
the eucharist they'd called it, would save my soul
and i wouldn't be going to hell after all, i'd agreed
i'll buy the blood. i'd said. we'll bring the body. they'd said.
communion they'd called it
four weeks I politely asked them not come. four weeks.
warned them even. my cousin works in a gold mine. i'd say
that's nice. they'd say. no, my cousin's a chemist for a gold
mine. I'd say. great. they'd say. we're coming over next sunday
they'd said.
i marked april 13th on the calender in the kitchen
with the pictures of the bunnies and colorful eggs
in 10 point gold courier font it read thomas jefferson's
birthday
you can buy a bottle of red wine in a curvy glass
for fourteen dollars and forty eight cents including
tax at the liquor store down on main and fourth on
the bottom row next to the plastic bottles of vodka
i read the cask of amontillado by poe sixteen years ago
and i always feel claustrophobic every time i go into a
liquor store
my cousin mike is gaunt and always chews on his tongue when
he's not talking. likes free basing. he says. thought he
was going to ask questions about the cyanide, i'd prepared
responses about a rock i found in the garden underneath my
window that i was sure had gold. go fuck yourself. he'd said
handing me the opaque pint bottle.
mother didn't drink and i'd forgotten about the cork
so i stopped at the drug store on the way home
mellisa's taken to deep scarlet lipstick that makes
you want to lick yourself to taste cherries
it wasn't friday but i bought a box of condoms
changing tact, i'd gone with the ones marked extra large
for four dollars and fifty three cents, i couldn't tell
if it was the makeup but her face was flushed as she
enunciated four. dollars. fifty. eight. cents. the cork
screw too. I said. six dollars and 83 cents. she said.
you just have to pour out about a quarter of the bottle
of blood into the sink, unscrew the opaque bottle you got
from your free basing cousin and use a funnel to mix the
two. I'd posted as my facebook status. lol sounds like a killer
drink. mellisa commented. it is. i'd commented back.
four weeks. four weeks i politely asked them not to come
even tried to warn them. my cousin's a free basing chemist
who works for a mine. I'd say. that's unfortunate. they'd say.
the body of christ tastes like bread. i'd said on thomas
jefferson's birthday. it is bread. they'd said. and this
blood will wash you of your sins, usually baptism comes
first. they'd said. they'd poured big glasses to celebrate
my salvation.
their blood pressures began to drop as wikipedia said
it would and they stood up swaying like the grasses of
isaiah 40:7 that they'd had me read and finally withered
to the linoleum floor. their nice suits nice faces nice
words all still and silent on my kitchen floor.
at first i just opened the freezer door to keep it
cool in there but spring time just keeps springing
as they say. so i bought an old television with
fake wood panels for the snow at a garage sale for
twenty dollars
after the pulley was put in place, i ran the orange
electrical cord through the metal grooves and zipped
tied the male and female ends together. when a light
breeze comes through the window above the sink the
television sways slowly as its raspy voice pours
over their bodies
as of yet not a speck of snow has fallen out.
snow is cold
it comes during winter
like wet salt or cotton balls
turned it to channel snow
with its steady raspy whisper
snow is cold
it comes during winter
like wet salt or cotton balls
its getting to be spring now
birds are starting to scream
and the air is damp and warm
channel snow will keep the smell
down, cover these bodies in my kitchen
with dusts of ice
you can get an orange extension cord
120 feet long for thirteen dollars
at home depot, a small pulley and two
bolts for eleven eighty five
every wednesday they'd stop by
the light, the word, some salvation
i'd asked them politely four weeks
in a row. four weeks. not to come
given the weight of the television
and the force it takes to separate
the metal prongs from the plug-in
i had to buy three zip ties
thought of it late so i stopped
at the drug store
mellisa has almond eyes and large breasts
a gold crucifix precariously tittering
on the verge of suicide canyon
since she turned nineteen i've joked about
her cross to bear and every friday night
around seven I buy a box of ribbed condoms
slid them across the counter and look deeply
into her, smiling
my hallway closet is full of unopened boxes
of unused condoms
my mother willed this house to me after
she died in her lazy boy, staring out
at the cracked parking lot on thomas
jefferson's birthday
we'd play chess together with the star
wars set she'd bought me when I was nine
before she died on thomas jefferson's
birthday
checkmate. she'd say. idiot.
she'd say. let's play again. i'd say.
built in the fifties the ceiling and walls
are flimsy and fake. its hard to find solid
studs for the pulley and bolts
and their arms and legs and heads are
in the way of my aluminum step latter
when their skin is chalky and faces sunken
its like moving giant frozen water balloons
that those clowns make for kids on weekends
just down the street
what was i supposed to do? these guys
nice suits nice faces nice words and always
the light, the word, some salvation
can't turn away the men of god that were
there at you're own mother's death chair
helping you change the green oxygen tank
before she sucked and wheezed and gurgled
and died on thomas jefferson's birthday
they'd brought their big black book
read it out loud next to her lazy boy
staring out the window at the cracked
parking lot and until the end she never
made a sound but towards the choking and
gurgling and suffocation she moaned and
nodded her head and rubbed her heart and
cried holding the nice man in his nice suit
with his nice voice and face and on thomas
jefferson's birthday
she leaned over to me and asked me to kneel
and pray next to her lazy boy and green tank
there wasn't any way to do it. i'd said. don't
know god or the right words or why i would. i'd said
that it wouldn't matter at any rate. you're going
to burn in hell just like your father. she'd said
i didn't see how that was pertinent. i'd said.
and on thomas jefferson's birthday
she died
i read on wikipedia that cyanide wasn't too bloody
or gruesome and made Rasputin's death rather colorful
in the accounts that followed. i barrow wireless internet
from my neighbors across the street using a series of large
squares of aluminum foil to reflect the signal into my bedroom
window, that always smells like old pumpkin pie
by all accounts, they'd said, the blood of christ
the eucharist they'd called it, would save my soul
and i wouldn't be going to hell after all, i'd agreed
i'll buy the blood. i'd said. we'll bring the body. they'd said.
communion they'd called it
four weeks I politely asked them not come. four weeks.
warned them even. my cousin works in a gold mine. i'd say
that's nice. they'd say. no, my cousin's a chemist for a gold
mine. I'd say. great. they'd say. we're coming over next sunday
they'd said.
i marked april 13th on the calender in the kitchen
with the pictures of the bunnies and colorful eggs
in 10 point gold courier font it read thomas jefferson's
birthday
you can buy a bottle of red wine in a curvy glass
for fourteen dollars and forty eight cents including
tax at the liquor store down on main and fourth on
the bottom row next to the plastic bottles of vodka
i read the cask of amontillado by poe sixteen years ago
and i always feel claustrophobic every time i go into a
liquor store
my cousin mike is gaunt and always chews on his tongue when
he's not talking. likes free basing. he says. thought he
was going to ask questions about the cyanide, i'd prepared
responses about a rock i found in the garden underneath my
window that i was sure had gold. go fuck yourself. he'd said
handing me the opaque pint bottle.
mother didn't drink and i'd forgotten about the cork
so i stopped at the drug store on the way home
mellisa's taken to deep scarlet lipstick that makes
you want to lick yourself to taste cherries
it wasn't friday but i bought a box of condoms
changing tact, i'd gone with the ones marked extra large
for four dollars and fifty three cents, i couldn't tell
if it was the makeup but her face was flushed as she
enunciated four. dollars. fifty. eight. cents. the cork
screw too. I said. six dollars and 83 cents. she said.
you just have to pour out about a quarter of the bottle
of blood into the sink, unscrew the opaque bottle you got
from your free basing cousin and use a funnel to mix the
two. I'd posted as my facebook status. lol sounds like a killer
drink. mellisa commented. it is. i'd commented back.
four weeks. four weeks i politely asked them not to come
even tried to warn them. my cousin's a free basing chemist
who works for a mine. I'd say. that's unfortunate. they'd say.
the body of christ tastes like bread. i'd said on thomas
jefferson's birthday. it is bread. they'd said. and this
blood will wash you of your sins, usually baptism comes
first. they'd said. they'd poured big glasses to celebrate
my salvation.
their blood pressures began to drop as wikipedia said
it would and they stood up swaying like the grasses of
isaiah 40:7 that they'd had me read and finally withered
to the linoleum floor. their nice suits nice faces nice
words all still and silent on my kitchen floor.
at first i just opened the freezer door to keep it
cool in there but spring time just keeps springing
as they say. so i bought an old television with
fake wood panels for the snow at a garage sale for
twenty dollars
after the pulley was put in place, i ran the orange
electrical cord through the metal grooves and zipped
tied the male and female ends together. when a light
breeze comes through the window above the sink the
television sways slowly as its raspy voice pours
over their bodies
as of yet not a speck of snow has fallen out.
snow is cold
it comes during winter
like wet salt or cotton balls
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