| ::09:21:08::
::: And the weight of cars :::
Tom Dillon swings a rusty nail down to me
Past the wet napkin, swizzle stick, happy hour traffic,
I am surrounded by boxers
Daily specials dry erase board at BILLS reads: "like books, drinks can make a room inhabited."
Lost in the chalk photograph
I am crouched on the drive way
Of innocence became
The agitation of leaves
Begin to fall on Janey and J Street
"How am I here, to everything, caught, happened really alive?"
Broken stools with Tony and Mr. C
Going straight up
As Dillon fires them
Down my teeth rotting of my skull
Surprise! Sink, teeth, cutlery, blood in the toilet
Visions of Sweden, Munch riding the Swan
Of midsummer as the sunglasses sank
To the bottom of the lake GRÄNNA
As Christer broke the life
Out of the spine we ate
For dinner under the scream trees
Twisted and swimming naked
Night swimming
I overhear Dillon shooting the sh*t
Tourists
Calling back, way back...
Lenny Widge
Nearly hit by the car,
Traffic into the run yet dodged the branches
Of the tree that came down seconds
Before he took the hill
Even with all the blood and stops,
Hand wrapped in a plastic bag
Soaked through and Lenny thinks
As he repositions the pulsing blood
Hand, " The weight of cars..."
Lenny carries the bags in one hand
And money in the other
Neither stops the red
So sad his pathetic sour cream, pretzels,
A six pack of Shaffer
Holding the embarrassment back
By the sinking ships of Turner
And The House of Parliament
Sailing away death a pale horse,
As face on fire
In the A&P.
There are pale blue
Deflated balloons in his eyes,
His hands wilted nosegays
Of sunflowers-
Leak out the swell
Of the recognition to the surface
Of the skin that calls the sound
Of ropes and heaving paper sacks.
There is not enough by finding
Jesus on the cutting board,
We together drip him thrice
Into the sink
With no band aid or wet nurse
To collect me
To end me
As I wave goodbye
To the Snow White
Collecting on my
Sleeping beauty America
Ask Once
The thinking, the stern,
the lucky, the situation,
Roll the sleeves up,
Twitch your nose,
Draw the Joker
And tap your life out,
Tap for the August blood
Tap for the temporary princess
Tap for the lawyers and The Puritans
And don't go away without asking:
Who is Dillon?
Mr. C and Tony,
Janey and J?
Mr. Widge and Christer?
But what mirror is this?
And why before you up and leave
Try the side door
And when the grey eyes
Rectangle upon you
Ask for George Bennett
And remember the password-
Wrestle me
Man in the moon
Written by: ~ J.D. Szalla |
