All that is left now/Is to climb over the tower/Using eyes that see beyond seeing/To find that there is no love on the other side/Just as none exists on this side.

I cannot recommend general anesthesia:/the room cold, the nurses all-business/as they move you to the table on three.

The sun pretends it doesn’t know where it’s going /each night. Its boat just follows the ocean currents,/like blood flowing from an open wound.

I made you nothing for dinner tonight,/though the fridge was full/and I had the time

The moon goes up/the moon goes down/and still she’s saying oh/mother, the world,/it’s so rotten, let’s die/together.

Just once I want blood to flood/his cheeks — the Red Drake,/the Communist Flag, the/Land of the Rising Sun/rising to his surface like/fish in a dynamited lake. 

he takes a fist full of boiled peanuts
brown juice swelling under his fingernails
regally goes to work sucking out the pale meat

When I turn into twigs now/my sap dives deeper/and the claps/clap louder

The woman who’s dating my daughter’s boyfriend has feathers tied to the laces of her boots, and trundles off with him down the long stairs to the street.

you go through the wash stages
the final rinse stage feels like
absolution after going to
Confession
where the priest absolves you of all sin
and your soul feels brand spanking new