Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
The zombies arrive at the screening of your soul
Don’t look, the eggs are unhinging
with delight even as the antennae appear
Edge-shadowed from under the bunker.
In the suits of funeral participants, smudge dark
and dried up stiff around the stains, these fashions
they hedge the century by shaving more ice
into the ages by singing. These zombies are not
politely educated but they are critics, ultimately
Banging arrows into merchant dreams
with a thwock-thwock one two, clearing out helmets
and police cars just as fast as a wooly mammoth
strips out the safe harbor of the strip mall
by laying tread all down the city’s spine.
In the theater of the movie of your soul,
you are quaintly chewing on a drinking straw
as the bombing goes on, making you nervous.
Now the zombies are brewing coffee
with your brains but you have scripted a long
tunnel of escape and terror, so long
it stretches into infinity before caving in
but the zombies don’t stop squeezing through.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
This is the scene in the movie where we learn
that the zombies teeth become so accentuated
because the news of being dead travels first
to the mandibles then to the soul.
Maybe not so vampire or werewolf like
but you have to admit the teeth, the beacon
fires that let your whole being now it still is
and is yet no more, you have to admit they
get awful yellow awful quick, like a cart load
of corpses during the plague, the news
comes out of these scenes, and some bodies
get old and start to smell, right? and some get
up all tooth wrong, leaving little spurts of juice
like tips on the table and start to come
at you and you wonder how to get out of this
scene, the frames slipping so fast you fall ,
or you could be suspended in white space,
or slick on a wetness and as everything slows down
you notice how it gets long, gums wrinkling
like theater curtains and everything going yellow,
tumbling upon you like a sack of lemons was
held above you for so long and finally someone
came by with a sharp knife and sliced it open
on you, and you kneel down as they thump on you
because you have to admit it that we cant know
everything about the zombies and their teeth.
Monday, December 10, 2007
This zombie movie takes place
Inside the head of the Zombie
In order to show what he is thinking
As he tries to eat the young
Person hiding in the bed
Of the pickup truck that died
Half way to safety which is the end
Of this movie and which is
Also the deception of safety
Which is also the end of this movie
About zombies and thinking
And getaways and parking
In the right place so as not to be left
With anything on your mind
When you go in to see this movie
About what the zombie is thinking.
What is his motivation, the method
Actor might ask, and the answer,
The deep moving memory of human
Concern that propels him in his
Bloodied suit and tie even into this
Theater is a as gruesome a mantra
As an executive bowtie or a sale on
Corporate farmed replacement kidneys,
It is the same burning question we all have:
Do you validate? Do you validate?
Do you validate?
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Friday, December 07, 2007
Evening in her dress lifts the hem
For a peep at thunder, maybe rain.
Hope for the tomb, laughter
Comes over a loud speaker
Installed near your armpit.
It is necessary to interrupt.
One point in the distance
Is a huddle of laundry
Dry, rotting, perverse.
Some hunters and their deer,
They tie the racket to a tree
And unload beer, carnage
Cleaning the esophagus is severed.
This deer has a sack of potatoes in her
Corset. Blue eyes
In the dark barn. Someone
Playing a piccolo stops
To a sudden distance. Recall
The posture of a cloud
Alerting us all to a mourning.
So many trumpets of countryside
So many calming ointments.
Meanwhile the geese engage in firefights,
Misled by the compass points
Engagement like pulling rings
Through their nipples.
A lizard crawls out of the cold
Remembering the belly of rock
Igneous, geometric spindle
I wish it was still cold out
So the sacrifice wouldn’t rot.
I’m the air in a swirl as the pickup truck
Passes. Frightful eaves outside a morticians
Awkward slip of change
My minutes are running out: each
Second marked by a dog bark
To which I wince abominably.
Track of mud and hair
And the door is ambiguous
Possessed of elements
A car in the wind, a breeze
Over streets, some shopping
Perhaps I’ll buy a Peruvian Mask
Made of seal intestine.
Attuned to the cracking sidewalk’s
Edge, blank’s signature
Sand on wind convection
Tighter circles until synched.
Hanging plants invested
Of root, I demand a recount.
One grain catches me in the eye
My eye, caught and hung
From a tree, her spindle root
Flagellating in wiry creation
I am working a finger up and
Back into view.
This apartment is expensive
But it has a great view.
It could be said of kindness
She holds a pin to the sun.
So I dig with my hands because
Deflation is obvious,
The mounds are godlike, it’s a shame.
Merit and bloom, cantankerous
To a mother unburdening her wax
I am not without a grave, spectacle
Not submergible without
A word for drowning.
I’m eating a footlong
And scraping out manifestoes
So measured by feet fit just barely
Through the walls
Made to enclose a god.
My sandwich prefers track lighting
While the subway looms neon,
Together they produce
A segmented apartment building
For the worm to inhabit.
It is in the ability to hand
Streets their walking shoes
That the technical louver of rainwater
Slices fingers off,
Children’s digits to god,
Her segmented ability to
And be worshipped.
Balanced blood vessel
Is a skill of blending,
One foot on either side
Of the knife,
Beach sand gently sawing
At an unhurried mistake.
Dredging chasms of Bank Notes