"bodies in beds"
little, cobalt animals creep across the
rafters watching our restless souls dance
and clamor across the stage. they wait
for us to reveal private moments of suffering as
we sit in oak rocking chairs nurturing the
dichotomy of suffering. between the walls
our demons play cellartunes the way they’ve
played for years. this time i meet them
with open arms.
"bishop"
we marched to the water hand in
hand and we howled as wolves
howled inches from the sea. the
bishop pressed his lips to
cold sand and collapsed into the
shape of a pagan constellation.
he,
above all men,
had been planning this for years. shards
of ice carried in
from oceanic waves froze around our bare
skin. each of us lay sprawled across permafrost
laughing and smiling at cross-bearing apparitions.
“polarity”
our hands glide over a map
of paths we won’t
follow. drawers
filled with medicine we refuse to
swallow.
distant and faithless, we
assumed silver waves would
wash it all away
we drew lines in wet sand to
count our positive qualities.
we remained late bloomers.
cash register bells and overhead jingles
pour into my ears in
varying sequences. i watch as the lives of
saints deteriorate and sunshine fills the
potholes. the drawer falls and change
spills out onto the floor. clocked in,
punched out.
thank god for worker bees.
effigies of former lovers decorate
the garden in the backyard. tiny,
stone concubines poised and naked.
smiles replaced with grinding teeth,
i keep each of them in my fingers.
cold statues amongst flowers in sterile serenity,
they are all just strangers i knew.
i watched a young couple dance
across the beach
at sundown. church bells rang overhead;
the dissonant sound caused my face
to crack like glass.
you asked the priest to light
candles for your lost ambitions.
another toast to another happy couple.
