my girl,
with occupational eyes
eccentric gossip in her head
like the moon, she has never been faithful
speak to me in your bleak voice
go wild, Irish Rose
wild like the world
like the thorn,
that pricks blood from the stone
in the night
in the light
trembling when the cock crows
hello little girl
my little girl
with big plans
in her back pocket
you deceive and corrupt
with your naked-waist politics
in the dark night
an old bare-footed man snores
nothing grows
burning hair
boiled claw
broken torso
and wrinkled skin
Apollo with a box full of smiles
my face dead cinder block
the determination of tin can hands
moving down dark within me
love creeps
eyes not engines
virgin pure swaying
you point the gun
and seal my tomb
discover the secret dragon hat
dazed and snickering
with a couple of farm angels
with dead eyes we see
she strolled over
and stole a kiss
I lay down my burden
following the sun West
we walk and laugh
on creeping legs
the mocker of our gaze
tempts us
with hungry haggard throat
the iron gate
of this hollow place
reads a notice of damnation
it was not fire but worm
not a tomb but a machine
the ways of Heaven
are numbered
we scratch them off
our playboy centerfold
between two dark doors
we meet at eternal ends
a twisted steel universe
my mind wanders
from rust to sundown
this world's blind gaze
turning and dying
papered with visions
of wrath and rumor
we keep heading down the dark road
I lay down next to the suffering
the security guard at the Tulsa mall
asks if we have ever been in trouble
with the long arm of the law
we are surprised by all of the statues
with movie star smiles
they are dreaming of me again
naming the images that flow
happy dancing chickens
we ate them with mashed potatoes
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