Saturday II

either these clouds are hauling ass
or that star is an airplane.
Colette is on her way down
So I stop talking to Diana and sit on my chair.
I stop eating the hipster
photographer girl's
honey barbeque fitos
and sit on my chair.
My chair
which is vibrating with the
power of the erupting volcano at least three blocks away
and the banging of the bells from St. Mark's Square
blood on the polinas and visitors from Tuscon
And many many people whose faces are a 35 millimeter lens.
I've decided that the star
is a star.
Sir, your motorcycle is abrasively loud.
I can count all the stars
one, two, three, there are 16 on the boulevard
and one glowing, glorified bird above the Palazzo.
I can tell which star is Mars because its red
one is particularly blue
but the one right above me at 45 degrees
is the brightest and most brilliant
and must be the Guru Jupiter.
Cosimo just came back from lunch and hung on my gate
he told me that I'm sexy and put a yellow package of peanut m&ms in my hand.
He knows I love peanut m&ms.
He told me he'd "fuck me right out of those uggs"
so I blew him a kiss and he tongued the air.
The Luxor's pillar of light shines directly into a small
cloud and
it looks like a spiral galaxy
and it is.
















---------


and now at
three thirty five in the morning
the pillar is constant.

anything for me

Be silent
little lamb
slip slowly into sacrifice
you did
nothing
wrong
you know.
But the Gods
must be appeased
You are a casualty
simply
collateral damage
its not that you don't matter
its that
you can't
be here.
You've done well
little lamb
we won't
see you
again
Its the way
it has to be
You would
understand
You'd sacrifice you, too,
if you were me.

the Tyranny

look in
from out
you'll find
no doubt
that hope
is lost
the river's
crossed
we've drowned
the crown
on heads
of killers sits
and
the people
cheer
"my god!
we're saved!"
and not
one person is there
brave
enough
to say
"you fools!
you're all
but slaves.
already dead,
you are."

a bizarre on boats

they saved
the best
for last
but will you make it?
how long
can you
hold on
how long
will you
hold on
no vistory's
been won
without
a war
be careful
open your mind
lose yourself
blood river
flowing
gently
rowing
down
and out
and nude
and wet
from
blood
its sinking
you
are sinking
drinking
blood
and drowning
you
didnt hold
on long
enough

now or ever to come

dark waters
calm -- the
scariest kind of scary
ice, sweet tea, and lemonade
most tired but a treat
awaits me
string of pearls
neckalce
illuminating
walkways
friends, there are no friends
my god
there is
no god
the fountain is
a spider
long watery legs
the bubbling center body
a sticky dampness on my neck
life as you know it will end
when grace gets here
the timing
most unfortunate
regrettable
a pain
in toes that creeps
upward. to
my heart
heavy
like the news
of death
to children
---
billions of dollars
of fakeness
of beauty
of couples
hanging breathlessly on iron
the promise of
forever for
a second.
reach out and touch Faith
for a price
she's a hooker
no satisfaction
in
the rush
of blood
to parts
already bloody,
spilling
a grayness
in the face
and soul
but freshly darkened hair
to fool the world
already fooled
by fools
my only friend
a tricep
a token
---
in heat
expansion
my mind is a wonderfully
miserable place
stop to see the roses
smell
the roses
treat all interactions
as if they were with
an autistic
a volcano
erupts nightly
a ship sinks to my right
the palace of Caesar shines brightly
an Italian parade passes by
A bride and her groom every hour
the while gown and the corsage
the beauty you think you are seeing
is really only the Mirage

Wednesday Morning

10:07 AM : English class, unfocused. The Professor just said "aesthetically gay" for the 73rd time this semester.

9:57 AM : Walking to class. Heart racing and not from my briskness. Call my sister Valerie, the Harry Potter freak, to tell her about my basilisk situation. Straight to voicemail.

9:55 AM : Park. Black 5. Decide to bring my book to class though unweildy and likely unnecessary. Disembark. Lock car.

Realize he is in the walls.

Picture my room. Picture the open cabinet. The one on the floor. The one that houses the water heater. The one that leads into the pipes.

9:39 AM : Leave for school. M&M's forbreakfast. Key got stuck so I didn't lock the door. That's not like me. My mind is elsewhere.

9:24 AM : Struggle to pull myself together. Emotionally, physically, and otherwise.

9:21 AM : Oh my god. He's not in his tank. Check the lid. It's loose. He's finally done it. Oh my god. He's loose in my room. Scan wildly. Many times.

9:11 AM : Decide to get up. Remember I have to leave at 9:30, not wake up at 9:30. Unset remaining alarms. Rise gracelessly.

9:10 AM : Reset alarm for 9:17

9:05 AM : Backup alarm sounds. Dismissed.

9:00 AM : Alarm #2 sounds. Dismissed.

8:55 AM : Alarm clock sounds. I tap to ignore.

1:52 AM : I cant' sleep. This is weird. This never happens. My Chopin playlist is on it's second run already.

12:41 AM : Something's wrong. I hear noises. Something sounds like movement and yet the room is still. The sound comes from above and behind me. In the walls. In the ceiling. I am at unease. Try to forget. Restart the playlist. I leave my light on. Turn over. Try not to think. Figure it's probably just the snake.

...

10:33 AM : Still in english class. For many more minutes. 42 of them, in fact. Kenne has her head down; she suffers from migraine headaches. Professor Mufasa is still talking, fervently, without interruption, "I was experimenting with my life you know my dad kicked me out said if I were to live with him I had to live by his rules I said GoodBYE. Who am I? I am nobody. Nobody and something...."

I've become strangely relaxed with my bedchamber of secrets, the only animal I've ever truly loved lost within the walls or plumbing...It is too poetic to not work out...dismally. Why, in Harry Potter, the basilisk hangs out in the walls and pipes for a tick and all that happens to him is he gets his eyes clawed out and stabbed in the throathead.

Thoughts at the Car Wash

I sit down with my Naked juice and my pen. An attendant offers me a Lexus. I accept. He retracts his offer upon discovery that the Lexus is indeed not mine.

The sun is hot but the air is cold. Cloud coverage causes a chill and forebodes rain. I've picked a good day to splurge on the triple foam and exterior shine.

There's a Starburst on this table. Unwrapped, alone, and yellow. If it were pink I'd probably eat it.

I sense the mexican towel twirlers and talking about me. They smile to each other and nod in my direction. I stare at them.

It's cold now. The storm above the mountains has traveled overhead. An old man converses with a guy wearing flip flops. His name is Jerry. I know this because his car is ready. It's a BMW. Maybe I should've worn flip flops.

I picked the green Naked juice today. It has broccoli in it. A woman vacates a yellow Xterra wearing a white tank top. I am cold. She will regret her choice of wardrobe.

The same attendant offers me a new car. I cannot understand him. Recalling my previous fruitless interchange, I decline his offer. The metro police department is across the street, anyway. I wouldn't make it far in a stolen conveyance. Not here.

The Starburst taunts me.

Tank top girl recovers a sweater from her car. I was correct. Flip flop guy has since vanished and I am left in solitude at my table, save for my unedible candy companion.

It is cold. And the clouds are now endless. My car has yet to emerge from the wash. Or maybe it's that one in front. I can't get a good look. The uncertainty leaves me at unease.

Adam's car is ready. Adam drives a Nissan. Adam looks confused. With Adam's departure I've located my car. It was the one in front. This is good news, because it's cold.

Something smells good. It is not the Starburst.

My car is done. They call my name. The many melodic syllables sound misplaced in their mouths. I juggle my notebook, and pen, and green juice. Goodbye, Starburst.

I get in my car and remember to take it out of gear before I let off the clutch. I forgot to last time, and I publicly stalled out. It was embarrassing. I celebrate my brilliance this time, silently. I tip the man, and drive away.

Directly into the rain.