The Secret World Disappears Pirate treasure map brown Canines drip iodine like blood. Naked breasts undulate In a wave of breath And the hallucinates Enjoy a private concert Of urban cicadas Mammering dewberry. Trees grow on the vine With skeletal limbs Exploding out of acorns. Neon conjures The aquamarine notes Of a distant trumpet. Clocks turn compass And describe a perfect circle. A hypodermic needle Of glass and steel Punctures a distended moon And turned it pumpkin With its humours. The night is red velvet. The stars are faint green, And the entire world Is post-impressionist until A normal man steps on to the sidewalk. Hope Hope is the reflection of a reflection. It’s a thin pyramid of flickering orange Ensconcing a searing blue teardrop From a dying plastic lighter Imprisoned in an infinite world Of glass portals lined like Crystal dominoes, Diminishing to infinity. Its fuel is poison, Toxic butane, But there’s something so alluring About its glowing, oscillating dance- Hypnotic to infinity. Wild Skies The night is when I’m alive. There is lightening in my veins, And your blue sky And marigold sun Don’t exist where The muddy green skies, Pregnant with hail, Churn ashen cyclones. Have you looked at A wild Van Gogh? That’s where I live. |