Ridden

He is not
alone
someone else
has been here
already

Dust silence grey
wheels make
snake belly canyons

dunes within
watchful cicadas
  even though
even though she was dark
and small,
 a woman can burn right
through a man

now he will count
to himself her
faults
too many teeth for her mouth
her lazy eye
a need for noise
all the time,
noise

  then the
jagged sprockets
     dig in
her cool hand on his shoulder
the smell of her skin
how she fit
 back or belly
lying there
  a violin
         a case

only his habit
 for traction
   keeps him hanging on

   

asshole

Fuck you

fuck you and everyone

who acts like you,

your air

kills my air

your mind is

not there

just a set of responses

with an audience

i may not be

the one

who breaks you

but i have to try

to at least escape you

every second

of my time

i think about your lies

is a crime

of theft i helped you

commit

from myself.

like this right here

Heroes of the Sea

Baskets made of plastic

     ribbons that hold their shiny 

colors forever, 

      a doll's head goes 

 floating by blemished

        by barnacles or the insult 

 of oil.

    She is the first one, then

 a flotilla of other drifts along

        every type of doll faces 

     and bodies, all of them are

besmirched, scored,,burned,crazed,

       until they become the same 

 mottled color no matter how they all started.

Isn't it odd, how these 

     accidental objects are

clotted into groups like 

        this,

 fleets of flip flops, nations of toothbrushes,

     and continents of Styrofoam

          from candidate white,

 shining as to hurt the eyes

       to grey murky

 wanting to lose itself, but

      still holding its shape.

  

There is drifting,

          coming together

 floating apart

       sinking down to 

            some place that 

                   crushes or embraces

God the Father in heaven sits

           in his dory

next to you

            I'll give you,

he says,

     something to 

            cry about.