2.
C

I saw mother harvested,
Half eaten by the crows
Who stole the black from her scalp; 
Tired and consumed by
Those skulking cells.

I don’t remember the day…
But her songs shriveled like
The tomatoes in my defrosted fridge –
Pale pink, red, black –
Scarred by the hurt scabs of cold.

Her brows collapsed into the pockets of her nightgown
And twilight loops, cast lines across her eyes
As she showed me the black, clotted ball,
Hidden behind the mother I sucked once
Like supporting columns, of stationary fear.

I rambled out of automatic doors
Into the awful sun
To steal a smoke,
While she lay in the executive suite,
Explicating her newest victory to friends.  

3.
Slow Walk

Through the gully of damp mist
Float the fields,
Village grass and towering mountains.
 
In the early morning cold,
Climbing hard –

The snow falls gentle on the peaks,
As liquid drapes of
Flowing stream chatter in-between stones.

Wild hounds in shaggy coat,
Almost follow back trails
With semi-depressed tails –
Scared to stay,
But curious to follow
The footprints of new scent.

The stream barters its own business
Slashing its own descent –

An early morning walk
Tread shoe-marks on a new sun,
As the burning smell of black wood
Brings purpose, to a slow gait.

 

4.
Bullfight

As we cuddled
On cold Monday mornings,
Taking pleasure
In your maternal streak,
I suckled on your nipples,
A child bearing reservoir,
In vivid wrinkles
Of burnt sienna.

Maybe –
Maybe not.

What reason
Does meaning hold
Between adolescence
And a lovers fold.
I enacted
A toddlers torero,
Across confusions arena.

Maybe we found warmth
In cold December
Like a frozen carcass,
In the depth
Of coffin cajoles,

Or maybe,
We were prize - fighters,
Matadors of unknown guilt,
Touching a few moments,
Oedipus couples
In love,
Innocent reckoning,
In mother and child.  

 

5.
Like Busy

Contact play in local circles
Immersed in ironic grease –
Ride in between petrol trees.

Clogged ink of brain bees,
Illegitimate nectar
Hard to suck.

Cancer in mother’s boobs
Coagulated milk-man
Pedaling in foggy, morning-dew.

Fellow fell firm, full felt –
Booze fermenting fish –
Acid breath, blue; breathe smoke.

Talk; tick, on the fringe,
Tickle, tinge, over slow time,
Like a railway clock.

One meet, one met –
Meeting in parallel; bi-cycling,
Inside melting pit of mind.

City sweat –
Tired at one o’ clock,
Sleep in bitter-sweet.

 

6.
Phallic City

Steel gray . . . springs of heaven nauseate,
Rocking on sour chrome plated existence, in exile. 

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Screams the child.

(There is this wind blowing across my head, flapping my sixties collar on my cheeks, the faster I go the faster I get slapped, punished & singed by cold chaos)  

Hemispheres of motion…kiss the road lim             ¥
                                                                                 
In cranking rhythm, skipping like a vulnerable emotion jjjL   
vul·ner·able adj. 1. Capable of being hurt or damaged
                                                      2.Liable to attack; assailable 3. In contract bridge,
having won one game of a rubber, and thus receiving
increased penalties and increased bonuses. [<LL
vurnerabilis wounding < L vulnerate to wound
<vulnuseris wound] - vul¢ner·a·bil¢i·ty,
vul¢ner·a·ble·ness n. – vul·ner·a·bly adv.    

Over senile screws that have forgotten their age and washers like flat POLO’sâ embedded within the dark arms of the road…

Voyeur Velocity TempleÔ
(Pure philistine pleasure – elevation with no meditation)

Flywheel seduction -  
Lubricated thrusts hugging superhuman cranks -
Polished & embroidered pistons clasping wedding rings . . . in sweaty palms,
Mating with alien blocks. 
Spark plugs - - - spark - - - spark - - - in faltering speed and pure monoxide
Fumes in thunderous silence.
 
Crocodile Leather, all weather love…
A cast alloy cabal of my souls,
Take me to Phallic City.  

7.
Mute

There is this air
Dense in mute clouds,
Where I float
Like a distress call.
In cold nights
Like warm cups of words,
I freeze in my
Tongue-twisted cell –

I watch my words
Like a bucket in a well,
Do a taciturn dance.

Recline on voice,
A purling sound –

Inhabit a stifling acoustic
Across pillowed shores.