space is where all the good stuff is happening
heavily armed
and free
we built a shelter
loving heavily
dead boys had drawn buildings
for live girls to live in
turned the scriptures into tv
and we always knew
what it was we threw away
but now the ice is melting
soft the soil, heavily
loved –
let us make bricks.
splinters of last windshields’ blow still in brow //
eyelids lifting to beauty of new turn.
.
detonated atomic missile,
reunited with my first ever love,
tortured then spoke to lizards that crawled out of my food –
dreams are a wonderful source.
deep. thin. no flowers,
a heavy leather chair.
subtle muscle exercise,
a wonderful itch under skin.
with every new scar,
self diminishes.
let sadness come home as sadness … and the pieces become beautiful
things breaking, things broken, things yet to be broken,
deeds to be done and words to be spoken
the metal tongues of total love
sprinkling water from above.
grass – we used to hide and come.
sand – the pain still in our bones today.
grass and sands –
of home
at night we lie on aching backs
thighs open to the skies
offering ourselves to
some other home imagined.
the old man on a bike.