Missedspelled Phonetic Nightmares: Notes from the Dead Letter Office

Harbor theses intentions
so criminal a container
so thirsty the desire
to take everything that
is not nailed down
in this room of unsettling dust
creating friction, electric, the air igniting
movements so quiet they cannot be seen
but look farther, child
behind these fish eyes

Can you not smell the storm
carved out on distant horizons
to blow it all away

So far that distance cannot be measured in lifetimes

Dreams smelted down
their weighting gold ingots
sparkling at the bottom of the ocean
the sun reflects defiance that
populates each breath of the game of life
dice, hard 8, crossing fingers and
magic things, seen in the dark
when you are alone
or just a lonely fish
in a bowl never remembering
tail reflected in you home
a prison on both sides. security
from colliding wet friction
warm to the smell lingering on
but not for much longer
the sun is going down and a mother
calls for their child off exploring
open worlds feeding imagination
the fruit of growth delivering
salvation’s fine print
no one dares to check

Off to the land of left socks
and sweet fathers missed
I have taken the lords name in vain

Gratitude the armor

Protecting the innocent

The eyes view
across the yard
my lover sits
green gardens wet texture, blue like moisture
the chair of iron
gently grasps each curve
she dances in flame
i breathe it in
in my guts

The audience is watching and
the time is still trickling
outside these walls
an ark is being built
of Barbie doll crotch fantasies
and green men melting
sticking to concrete
and marsh mellow animals floating
on the ocean upside down reflected
infinite bending the upside down optics
the beauty unraveled

(Tuesday, July 25, 2006)