this poisonous poet and his wall of sorrow,
the familiar blue tears like shadows on glass.

a boiling plash that hovers under the joists
of fear; an echo difficult to understand.

bubbling, gurgling under the rafters.

joy and noise.

the drag of demonian torsion does not age
his sorrow; exhaustion is an antiquity that
begs and mourns.

it is a sadness that whispers in his skull.
+++


you are lanthanum, making speech of rust;
your heart stammering semaphore in the
poverty-stricken restless air, your unsolved hand
a mystery one endures.

your words break the bubble and destroy the day,
beating to death the tangled justice of my body;
the yellow-green color of a stationary state where
the meat of sleep is something like freedom.

it pants inherency at my door like an insect in a pail.

the grimace of your grin is like some ghost dissolving
in the air, like something i ruined. you stutter in the darkness
and the end of long-lasting kisses cracks your fossil heart.