Culina
You
were alone
You
fixed the problem alone
Now
the house is crowded
&
everyone needs to be fed
A
ladle in each hand
The
problem of boredom was solved
Because
you used your head
When
in Rome
Rome
of curtains, gardens and Augustus
&
these delightful people
Who
have been hunted down
&
bound & gagged
To
entertain us
With
what passes for new
Frenzy
Do
I need a governess
to
prove I am a child?
Here
come The Furies
Their
drums remind me
of
my mother
jumping
out in front of the TV
The
Furies are naked
&
stinking
they
have knives
Don’t
move
or
they’ll stick you
again
& again
Who
let these bees out?
I
am stung & stung
with
other children
A
snake too
beaten
with a club
by
the aimless one
Lights on the Way Out
This
galaxy makes me thirsty
I
was hoping for a darker ride
with
a few turrets
these
cities think it’s all about them
they
could have been ordered online
all
those heads huddled over the same book
for
me it’s different
I
like my light grainy (ecru)
Fighting
in the refectory
&
powerful storms
that
shook the bricks
&
froze the burning candles
cities
in black
thinking
it’s all chemical
The Composer
The
man in my dream
hands
me a hammer
it
reminds me
of
coconuts
too
bad he’s based
on
a photograph
in
the police museum
a
young man
murdered
with a meat cleaver
&
stuffed in a freezer
part
of his brain
under
a simal-focal microscope
revealing
his musicality
his
notes on copulation
his
fear of disappearing
before
singing something wonderful
Bat
little
umbrella
with
a hell fetish
dried-up
on
the shower floor
the
dog ate you
like
a potato chip
you
could have been
my
kid brother
