rain

Fist

when I found it safer to hate I
became an angler in the lake of darkness

yesterday ate green salad for purity and
white sugar for rotting; kissed this girl
and fucked her and loved her & she’s still here
(what can I do to her now?) &

forgot how to be surprised; forgot how to smile
& just shrieked like an old kettle
blowing to bits, steam killing in sweeps all
around: girl came and ate pain and held me in

sometime I

I was this stupid boy hanging like a
piglet from mama’s tits: Mama Mama
keep me here while you can because when
I’m gone I’m GONE: eat my own food &
scream out loud when I come & I’ll leave you
to smother yourself

the air tinkled with raindrops and seagulls
got dressed & the mirror warped me: told me
‘You are a beautiful man’. & I sickened
but PLEASE: I’ll find my halo and step in
& never be able to pretend again; only
be the same girl as yesterday, tomorrow

The Book of Dreams

I'm a friend killer; I stay the same
while you dream of union and forever,
crying until the next emptiness filler,
Spanish coffee beneath the rain mirror,
cherry blossom in your lying brain.

In mine: a figure in a shadow coat
on a strand that stretches out for miles
under a deep blue dusk; a bell's chimes
like droplets in the silence of his smile.
Music and seaspray, everything that floats.

I cut away my old face in a dream,
slicing carefully beneath the chin,
breathing wetly underneath the skin
of a film star. Then I looked within
in agony. I am not what I seem.

I will wear the ugliness today;
let my eyes turn black and let my mouth
split into a snarl. I'll cast you out
and stand alone and haloed. In my house
there are many mansions: here I'll stay.

On Being Alive

We are two shadows in the rain
walking around the reservoir together -
you tell me that you are afraid
I am not real; that you felt better

in your old, unfeeling shell,
your dark umbrella of self,
than being kissed and gently held
under soaking clouds, your hair wet,

wondering if it can be true
that I really do see the real you