i’ve never been close
to knowing how high the roof
might be, before it could take
my head off, until it will
scalp me tomorrow evening
shrunken heads go
on and on laughing — can’t
stop ‘em for Christ’s sake
i’m obliterate here people! rolling
through puke — wet linoleum, must
i launder things
get thrown under
bus tires; here and there —
spent veins, untied, organize the
red worms into your boss’s
smile — never known your
healing ways, God,
did you make clouds just to hide me
from heaven — did you
tell her — about the pool boy?
he is my Jesus Child
or the neighbor how to stop me
from melting her lipsticks down
with only a sprinkler and
metronome smile —
I hear her singing Tosca,
drinking pink Moscato
wrecking her flesh
with canopies of formaldehyde
she’ll eventually be found
drowned or strangled — still in style
what a crock of shit this world
how i’ve stained it red just talking!
pressing upward makes hymeneal
puncture — so i make it
rain down shards of glass
so i make it know — i’m listening
