Skip to main content

Immortality

Waiting in the rain
until bones gone soggy
blood like slush aching
clenched fists

The bar rumbles with waves
of laughter, old rock songs
tinkering of beer bottles
ice in clear glasses

saw her once, all flesh
heavy breathing, in rhythm
with a man, the rain slid
down her cheeks and collar
bones like olive oil, white
teeth glowing in the twilight
wide smile thanking god

standing under an eave across
the street, eating blueberries
I witnessed the pleasures
of immortality

Swaying like a falling alder
leaf, her eyes wander lazily
trying to remember the ground
a smooth wild pendulum

"You know how this is young
man, without a crystal moon"

"I want you in the rain
always singing of immortality"

Metal buttons, cold wall,
starchy stiff jeans pulled
past soft milky thighs,
rain water warmed by skin

twisting, jittery excitement
folding, consuming, gripping
shallow drowning breaths
until life is knotted
loosened again, drained
already forgotten

Leaning now, buttocks in hands
smells of mud and night, liquor
and cigarettes

"It only takes a moment
to journey beyond the stars
and crystal moon behind darkening
clouds," she's whispering, tasting
blueberries

Immortality slowly saunters away
to the rhythm of the rain

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Inside

"There's a chaos inside that 'll not die down." Unsteady gale wind whips at hair rips souls from their bones leaving corpses of naked bodies curled and crying, wet and muddy Blackness, sound of breathing a scream that wallows, tares from the intestines spewing brown bile, lead heavy words "You'll not drown in a wake of your own making." Shoving gravel through eye sockets, dreading tomorrow caught in a web of mucus, rotting tobacco leaves, dust of glass sprinkled on tongues Empty bottles of fire sing heavy somber tunes, tumbling off the end of the earth, cutting the heads of goddesses bathing in the stars "Turmoil inside suffocates tomorrow and the next." "I know."
Post a Comment
Read more

Voices

The doctor doesn't seem to understand. Says I'm off. Not quite right. Thin sheets are always talking to me. Voices of old French philosophers and Pompous Englishmen discussing some Colorless Male Burden. Killings and Sexings have been whispered Across candle light by thin wild haired Depressed Americans who rock menacingly Staring at the sky. Waiting for black birds Eyeballs and blood Baritone Black men tell me about blues Grassroot hallucinations speaking through Hazy browns and chaotic melodies "Jazz," she says, "Strange Fruit," She Says. Women talk of the domestic This fucking wallpaper That fucking husband Doctor just doesn't seem to understand. I refuse to enter a library until all these Voices wait their turn
Post a Comment
Read more

Rusty Muffler

My roommate was nearly killed by a rusty muffler. My rusty muffler. It tumbled, and ricocheted off wet pavement right at her She laughed. Brought the broken pieces by hand, said I'd fix it someday Radio's never worked, orange lights illuminate buttons that have no use, they're pretty in the night reflections Broken knobs flick them on and off on and off on and off on and off Before my muffler's attempted murder a chorus of tired pistons, rubber belts, fluid cylinders, mechanical leavers and stuttering window wipers occupied the cabin hall Now there's only a rumbling to be heard beneath my feet, loudest in every gear rattling organs under thin layers of fat It chokes the need for talk We are taken by the roar from place to place, I flick the orange button lights on and off on and off on and off there's need to yell at times "stop it..." I follow the white lines with my eyes until home, the howling dies, our voices are left to fill the void We listen to ...
Post a Comment
Read more