come sir; here are my marks, penciled
how fearful, crows stitched across his chest
a hash of noise intended to be drawn
madness is this death, his asking for jesus
i toss, i turn, anonymously, discommoding light
separating him from himself
with a niggling voice,i scarf this idea of fate
asking angels
have we come here, in his little hand, in this little saw
O’ clown immortal brute
Come love this theater that thighs for you
Antiseptics unraveling the heavy makeup
Slick seeking the tears
The old games
With a magic that talks itself
O’ mercy mercy clown
Let’s pretend you are ten
And I am eight
Let’s both perform
Humor hungering dust anew
Mischief tattle-telling those old fools
Miming the instructed speech
How to breathe the summer rose
Like children who whole blue
Without the thorn’d jokes
Laughing with the tongues inside our heads
The strangers in our rough legs
Holding to bow
This danger show of plastic sighs
O’ clown you gravy clown
Standing ovations to you
Your elephant dance
Who didn’t really need me at all
If you hear a distant thump
It was me
The friend
The voice
Pitting
Softly
At your
Throat
I fear like everyone else
Like elves wait for those days
Shoemaking jolly ringlets
This pain constantly gardening
The righteous spleen
My kings of bees
Serenading serpentines
Be scared of a little wind?
And he replied . . .
As for this life my dear – I am scared
Scared of the pale drizzly afternoons
The holiness that loudly excites thunderstorms
The singular pond in which my wings pretend
Pretend with the tenderness of a hummingbird
And with these words my heart seeks the afterlife
The long and everlasting grass where my adequate pulse lives
Sitting here I wait
Famously breathing I wait
For the impeccable motherhood I wait
Mother do you still remember me
My words have nowhere else to live
Home is our story no matter how hard you try to blink
