mmmmi've got love, lullabies, and polite
letters to the editor. every occasion i've got
'good & kind' on speed
dial. but my friend,
he is a war machine. yeah,
he is killing content & opening words (like opening legs.
shouting down another hallway:
damn fine. oh
she's so mine. a landmine.
oh, you're a fist. you
meet me in my teeth. baby,
i'm so diplomatic you won't even know
i'm here (you won't even notice
when i go, open and shut doors
like the morning
opens glories & changes
it's mind. leave off
while i still think there are things
to say and then i say them
in my head a refrain. then i say them
(oh shit oh shit
like i'm saying them all over
again. small talk in the winter
is like small talk in the summer
but colder
writing my dear
editor, under the snowfall
in the compact
where your spine is a gift
wrapped in bed linens. where
the last thing i see
are your vertebrae waking up
3 comments:
ooOoo ahhh. so perfect.
mmm.... pretty. "your vertebrae waking up"
slam dunk
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