the horror so clear

so blue

it broke open that sky

it rained waterfall pills

my umbrella mouth

sponged

all the sadness

into a single cracked taco shell

brain dead

and staring into the antenna on the apartment wall

through the back windows

on the corner of my bed

smoking my last cigarette

over and over

over

and through

out came a me

and

out came a you

out came us

into the caves we went

clock and dagger—

shadow and light bearer

servant on servant

master on master

cloud-hunting on our sides, our backs grassed

sky wincing in golden sunrays

the beach lined with firefly twinkle little star

lights on lights on blur pools

the bright monumental expressive gusts

of your voice

eruptions of laughter and total disgust

i trust you with the treasure of my secret soul

imperfect and tired like a mountain of burning tires

your kisses strawberry shortcake ridiculous

asking “what do you think” and “when do you think”

blah blah blah blah blah

knees weak—composition rubbed round the edges

total cliché and bedridden

slowing down

not escaping

decadence dependency almost gone—

like a shot of dope—memory smeared and

vodka mind erasers mind erasing

me into a little stop

the past has grown weak

and elderly-couple loud

clumsy and cute

destitute and proud

the future’s glasses grown fogged

patches of fruit growing up through the cracks

in the walk

out back

that fucking book i wrote for ten years

on drugs

just another doorstop

to drool on

once i let the hopeless shell break

and i get confused for somebody’s dad

words broken on the stove cooking gas

smoke

like an old man

like a caboose stunt gone wrong

i wrote

i walked fingers on keys like legs on wooden planks

between the steel and rusted tracks

my timing in the steel yard

clicking along with the clock

for kicks

and for a year’s notice

that calendar all ours

all mine

that sun rises on the in-between

on the subway marching bald heads bodies

on jackets and shopping trolleys

avenue thieves, snotty flu children

on the brother waiting in the station

for his friend

who has never seen his face grown old

and never will again

once the crows call and walls break

in the tornado shake back home

my past is out for the lamb

i am the shepherd

it won’t shake

its bloodhound nose

sniffing at me in the bushes

round the lake

my words

my my, my word

little army of battle-ready soldiers on horses

tiny arrows

adding up

to bring the elephant down

so pink

frozen in the corner with airplane glue

and sniffing sneezing

glue-heads

laughing

like a cackle-box got born again

on a television

stroking my hair

this moment turns me on my back

like a tortoise

because

i pulled ghosts from the fishing pool

in my mind

and

you can tell that story

and

like everything i did