Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Octopus Eyes

octopus eyes
you got
octopus eyes
peepin out through your
human disguise

tentacle mind
and a
suction-cup heart
wrappin up everything
tearing it apart
The wave feigns sleep
as I spring first,
only to fall down the face of it
when it heaves.

I see sparklers in water, going out.
The thought bears me down,
but I float gently on the foam.

I fear again.
I hear the knocking of my heart.
A realm concealed
reveals itself.

autumn of the dog-day cicadas

all the cicadas have hollowed by now
their husks fall from the sky like
leaves, wispy little bodies
that crunch beneath my shoes

I sleep under trees in the afternoons,
wake up cocooned in wings
and hard red eyes
a second autumn

the sun waxes distant
as it wanes
winter knocks sharply on my door

--go away,
I say to the wind
--please let me sleep
for seventeen years
under the earth
let me be a cicada
and rebirth singing

halloween 2011

in the alley
a goblin peels the skin from his face
wraps his fingers through the chain link
leans forward and vomits into the dirt
spitting he staggers towards the road.

--from inside I watch
death is strange
viewed through a fogged window.

the streets tonight swarm with it.

budget

There is no toilet paper

children use big leaves
wild grasses
when motivated

otherwise
both either no hands

There is no fancy feast

cat eats raw meat
defrosted 2m15s
twice daily

escapes through the door
poops free in the desert

There is no laundry soap

mixtures of dial, alt bleach
humectant shampoo
very small rocks

wrung hung clipped
to a USB cable in the wind

my friend's father passed away she said
'he was the only one who could keep my mother sane'
to think of her
alone on that island
breathing in the salt air
perserving memories rather than letting them
rot her as she lives in an empty house
how am I to know
what that kind of death could be like

Occupy Norwich

Seventeen days now,
those poor tented bastards have camped outside
McDonalds and I
celebrated the anniversary by quietly doing their photocopying.

None of the other trainee teachers suspect a thing. But,
well where did you think that the posters and flyers came from?

Synesthetics

Hello again
November.
You find me now
in Marriage and Family class
students raise their hands
describe the dynamics of their home life
as they speak
I can smell the colors of their homes
despite my stuffy nose.
Nothing says
"I respect you"
like being referred to as
the Kanye West of
the Permian Basin