pt.1 if I should fall
I saw the great white
rising tail and jaw on either side
- and the captains leg in two -
grabbed hold the fore-mast
and lashed myself there
before losing time and waking mid-bob
half turned under and spitting for air
myself the sole survivor
and bent on revenge
you can still see the scars
below my brow and crooked nose
where the gulls had their fill
at my expense
I can’t see straight out my left eye
and the other in black and red
my hand is bent
but still holds cards
and drinks enough for two
on sundays I wear priestly robes
and sit in a small box
where the latticework tell stories
of lust and ancient sin
come closer, child
I think of you and touch myself
stroke my chin
rope beads up my ass
and pray for rain
pt.2 put it on ice
Don’t give me that
jesus shit rights
no room at the
crazy eight
or quartering of gods.
Your attic loon
may command three fates
and the movement of the mountains
but I turn your ass to turtle
dove soup
snap your flute neck
throw you from the cliffs
and tell your sister it was the rain.
amend that.
pt.3 wrath
There is force that attracts a body
toward the center of the earth
with degrees of intensity
measured by acceleration
She touched my lowered face
and hummed a childish tune
I smell the wet salt trails
down your cheeks
as dew falls
into dirt and nothing mud
When our time runs out
you’ll die in my arms
sweet child
again.
pt.4 bribes
Let me list for you
my accomplishments
in no particular order
each and every
as deserving as the last
and none the worse
for their transformations:
most to birds
some to bees
others: short-billed fowl
a lazy tortoise
twin half-bear giants
ravens, crows and marsh
several cattle
and two or three well carved statues
on the town hall lawn
little boys pissing
and shit like that.
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