Body
The heart, the heart.
The eye is a glass butterfly,
sugar dust, a thin membrane,
blue and iridescent as an oil slick
and the smell of rain.
Each warm bath, a delicate
liquefaction and a bilious abdomen.
Looks like she’s been in the berry patch
again, a fruity cyanosis. Gravity has a way
of settling things. The temperature of flesh
falls one degree with each hour
until it matches dusk, no more
the bloody radiator. Pigment turns
the skin the color of banana pudding
then a chlorophyllic cast as if someone
rubbed her with leaves until they bled
green into her. There was a time
when the seeping caverns would be dug
by lover’s hands and arid-made with myrrh,
brackish sands and sewn shut with a curved
needle and the thinnest thread.
Ode
Alex penis is magic.
Alex penis is an asteroid,
a black heirloom tomato.
Alex penis is skeletons holding hands.
Alex penis invites poems.
Here is an ode to Alex penis.
Alex penis will tell you things.
Alex penis dreams, experiences emotion.
Alex penis takes a siesta in the afternoon.
Alex penis wanders the desert, has a dark night of the soul.
Alex penis has been told Alex penis is complex,
is shallow,
is a narcissist,
is a darling,
tastes like lemon cake.
Alex penis has not yet been busted for criminal behavior.
Alex penis is a fortune-telling fish.
Here is an ode to Alex penis.
Goodnight
She arrived with her cruels and hags
a flying trunk gold ingots
Her hair so long The pressure
in the room terrific Eardrum’s
vigil Shells and tools precise
wages Young men’s teeth Silver
in the groundwater arsenic
under the tongue almonds
Audience with the king insomniac
He can’t stop praying dull
ambulation peripheral haloes
in pearl cobalt Help Me
and she does pulls out his hair
He wanted to see her work magic
but quick the awful potion
sparkling curtain Her carpentry
She dreams he pursues she smites
perpetual loss of silver dawn opens
black under long birds grass
Copernicus keeps a pack of dogs
Pipe organ air Quiet now