Continued from previous page


4.

 

Scissioned by the horologe

a baldachined parvenu,

innubile, gravid with fondant

obtunds the intestate day’s sere solfeggio

 

For the inamoratos

there is only effulgent suttee.


she walked by a bush and it        burst

into flame   sparrows wings

 

a bullet can     pass   through only

so many      bodies     before it stops  

 

my mind craves her      like narrative

her lack     is the start          of my stories

 

noah called the animals     two by two

the dove    was a fool       to return

 

life    keeps dropping the soap

i     keep bending over to pick it up

 

it is a january night      even the smallest

birds      have left      my feeder


a bible      bound       in human skin

her body holds        all my commandments

 

she is here but      impossible to      believe in

like a dolphin             dead by drowning

 

 we topped the hill     and the moose shuffled off the road

ran beside the car      like...  no.      like... no.      like...  and then gone

 

 my hands fall         open

like a book      of mourning

 

 hank williams      no show jones      sit down and have a beer

before you play your       final set

 

 a black      cat       crossing everyones path

my body has           no fixed address

 

 

(4kl)

 

i mouth    something   into your belly

more than words     pool in your navel

 

now   just where the hell did you come from

dear god   your buildings named shangri la

 

de da        my friends say     but     sometimes

life is           even wankier than poetry

 

moonshine      and these milkwrapped    dunes

your naked back      in the bed beside me

 

whodve thought id     find some sexualspiritualthang

baby  if the korans a rockin...

 

so here i am     the dyslexic blues     singer finally 

unemployed      by all this      happi fuckingness

 

 

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SENTINEL POETRY (ONLINE) #31, JUNE 2005. ISSN 1479-425X