Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Nothing Left to Burn About (2015)



You really want to talk about the drive
Out here from the beach?

It’s all dirt and road with slumped crossways and trees,
If you could keep your wagging tongue still for a fucking minute

Enjoy it

There’s a peace in what we don’t have to say,
Accepting the click of the second hand as it passes
Just like always does, without words

Hurling each pitch down a hollow ear,
You’ve said the same things before
Rearranged and regurgitated
Berating and banal

I’m waiting for starkness of the coast’s midnight
To sneak up and swallow us both
Before you decide to vomit up some shitty story

My foot will sink while the engine screams
Until we both become awful smells,
A churning, burning pile of metal and flesh

Mile and miles and miles
Of mouthing empty things

The road’ll run out before you

Thursday, May 21, 2015

The Fury (2015)



And in time, the bland rhyme scheme in your mind
Will fall on the jagged bumps of his tongue,
Swallowing all you were, for fear of what you’ve become

Bitter bad blood cascading over taste buds
There’s iron in love, but gold in lust
And steel in between thighs, stacked higher than the grey

All weak knees, warped and buckling in molten hope
Touched at the rusted bolts
Bigger skyscrapers came tumbling at the beckoning call

Built up and torn down, this life like a wasteland
Grunts and growls and ground teeth
Sure, hell is hot, but nothing to this desert of mirrors

Fickle conflagration on flesh, boiling veins with eager nerves
Dirt and grime up under fingernails scraped across the surface
Digging deep in the cheap seats, sticky and hot from sweat

Sun-licked highlights on blood-stained sashes
And gashes running the length of swollen lips
Puffed out like puffer fish, puckered and poisoned

Dried and cracking, unforgiving are the miles ahead
Walked barefoot in scorched sand, terror hanging in every step
As the length of forever comes closer to closure

Immortality comes crashing down, while the winds steal your name in whispers
Out of sight, the faint phantom dissipated on the horizon
And all that lingers is the lullaby brought low to carry the days back to night

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Fake Fur (2015)



She covered her body in pig’s blood
And thought no one would notice

Wearing that skin on her bones with so much nonchalance
Who would have confronted her with all that draped disdain

So tight under her chin, like she’d bathed
In a bottle of whore’s milk, satin and ivory

Drifting over her sins like silk sheets in the wind
Turned the other cheek when fingers drag throats

And soak bare knuckles in slanderous gossip
Rich with interest and thick in jealousy

Thinly veiled second takes hung lazily off her shoulders
Like the dead animals piled along the coming-of-age path

Parents with blank faces and generic advice
No curfews for this house, only open minds

She walked with that sort of sway in her step
That had men trotting like puppies behind her

Waiting for a flick of the hip to feel the swell in their groin
Cast like she had levels in sorcery, despite losing her character sheet

A glance over the shoulder and they’re ice cream puddles
On the August sidewalk, dried and crusted like a teenager’s socks

She can pull off just about anything, loosely on her naked, vulnerable body
Anything but that bit where she can look you in the eye and mean it