narnibithia

i'm devoted to dying slowly,
watching never frozen faces
dry up, dust out, and run with the wind,
and living hidden in empty spaces
beyond the chinks of popular imagery,
where time drifts without notice
and memory wears thin

deaf eye

the days wear decay in the
dialogues i'm trapped,
i'll sacrifice my dying friends,
their faces trade for masques--
means sharpened into rusted points
to meet their grisly ends,
they know the old are going and they
rush to take revenge.

"the girls have all grown phalluses
and paint their faces gray,
the blacks forgot the revolution--
they're waiting for their pay,
the jew is numb from hands he's wrung
recalling his bad luck,
hoping against the deeds they've done
that their dreams are yet to come."

in turn i've built an empire
reflected in the lakes,
that horizon line may limit you
but it falls right at my gate.
material can beckon you but
cheap filling never sates--
across my heart these last few words
the blind can't penetrate

monday

i know jokes that end themselves eternally--
folks who've slowly learned to slip old
childhood hopes through oiled fingers
and cope--

who read the
slight in hearty laughter
and the gleam of toothy smiles,
sitting by smoldering set dressings
and whispering under the clinks of cloudy drinks.

the forgotten loves that visit my dreams
grin through tears and lose their faiths--
their memories went dry by habit
but their flaws still keep.
i say shame's in loyal's grave;
i'll hold her closely as we sleep--
when sunlight comes she'll just be dust
and i won't need to weep

tch

i have rewritten my rage and
worn it in my skin,
in
mean jagged fingers that cut and bleed
ink,
unsung through teeth
and shimmering brown,
in light behind dreams that
dip down

the movies

dead men give birth to the world--
they starve after hypnotic strobes
rapid coughing flicks downtuned to their
waking lives summed up in few hours alone.
we hum the hymn of myth in
gone remembrance of hopes we once
believed-- dancing hands that would share
our gods and arms wrapping around us
like silk ribboning.

consider me covered and fading like
ghosts broken into echoing streets.
in love i've learned the imagined end
of what we'll never see--
mirrored glasses line the vaulted halls
of a true eternity:
images reshuffled, the intoxicating dream

all you see is

crawling gods of
hidden worlds, secret lives they only
see flying by in flashes of reflected light
get closed like boxes born in paper factories
printed labeled and stamped by your favorite
old grown men dead eyed and stained
packet-pocketed, paid and drained--
public spaces closed around us shedding
pieces of their final persons--
grey plague magi rooted, gaunt in neat arrangement
resembling cloaked crucifixes in stinging desert winds.
another sweet and fickle beast
unleashed in an old metropolis, where the
dreams sound like wishes gone mad.
in time the new hearts chirp their mirth, coughing up
thoughts they've kicked around re: the next
day after's answers. they punctuate my sentences and have
no memory of the silences they've impregnated

ashes

no more slowly we're decaying, though they
may fill our humble fields of green
with fears of troubled movement and
old violence in between.
but now the drum they steady beat goes swaying in the
nascent autumn winds--
its thinning blankets muffle night,
its haunting hollow rings.
tonight the sea is sinking with us--
its waves
sound like its sighs--
and on its broken mirror face
i still make out its eyes.
butofcourse no dream of ours will ever see the silky dawn
in their dashes strewn along the sand--
our thoughts and hearts are torn apart
and buried in our hands.