Second Person

The priestess kissed you for your christening.
Risen out of sin, you tremble as she removes
her facade. Revealed macabre. Accosted at
random and lost ten days in the malaise of futility.
Crescendo-ed to the gates of fated faces.

Lo,
you where found. Dirty and hurtin'. Behind curtains,
pulled tight like the drum. And some Tuesday blight
was always peeking inside. To no shame that resided
there, those outside still hide from desire, nature, and
twilight.

You know midnight, alright. Its the only thing you'll
stand tight for, in righteous fire. The moon is a tab
of extacy. The air is a cool, lucid liquor. Misunderstood
at nigh. And providing silent hindsight.

An Elegy for Jim Carroll

A good junkie,
could clearly articulate
mad hallucinations
of sight and mind
that seem so relevant the moment before they are forgotten.

And when brushing his fingertips across the placid surface,
how could he not have fallen in?
Lament
nearly drowned him.

He emerges and he is emaciated and his veins are enormous and his skin is pale,
but when he spoke I could have sworn he'd lived for ever, and would.

Orange Pumas

As I become intoxicated,
I saunter aloft upon thin air
towards heaven.
Floating high upon the clouds,
I can see the world more clearly.

In slumber I fall.

And as I awaken in hell,
peering up from the abyss,
the world above no longer seems real.

It is a long way to ascend.
As I return to cognizant
reality, and observe the
prisoners of purgatory,
I hasten back to hell.
That I may glimpse
heaven en route.

Prose Fry

I couldn't believe it was real.
When first all my little hairs on
my arms
and legs
and self
started dancing.
Grabbing eachother
and pushing away,
making my skin boil red and speckled
flesh. In turn exciting my veins to go
writhing and vining with me.
Never entangling
but occasionally rubbing;
all slithering into the trunk of me where the
color dye of my shirt appears to have bled
onto my skin.

"Would you look for chrissakes my
chest is all fucking plaid!"

My friend says, "Its just bad medicine.
You are very sick. Go lay down."

Lost

Lost in the land
Of sky and sand;
Lazy and hungry and
Just now ready to see.

Lost in reality
With an hours sleep
And I'm neck deep
Trying to deny.

Lost in reprise
And never thought twice
But at least it's been nice
just to be lost.