27 July 2005

needs be

bridebreeder scissor my lips
crack the bell in my ear tell
me how I will die

crucified upside down in
LA, KL, any abbreviated
city?

while molecules percolate
to the sky
and green flashes ring changes?

(yeah, whatever…)

there’s an algorithm at work here
an ache, something rheumatological
a power series which predicts

rising terror, while strings of snot
(all that’s left of my interior)
slide to the ground

and gouts of blood well
in the eyes of unbelievers
facing what’s left of the east

hey Michelangelo bravura
comic book hero
the selvage

of a Navajo rug running
hot through your hands
you’re a clickety click an old

movie projector you’re
interrupted motion in reel
time maybe this is

how I will die, pasted
in plaster high over the heads
of your torsos