They must…


They must cause
   the things that will torment them
Bloodstains on cobblestones

Sex numbs her anxiety,
   lets her escape herself, ties her close
enough to hurt him

Today, I’ll be the attractive one

An outward look
   that has nothing in common
with her inner feel

Escape from the hard-edged
   glare of jagged lights
He had everything he wanted

and wouldn’t be that happy twice
The yellow weeds become puffy
   dirty, light, fluffy balls
that make us sneeze

They always look like flowers to me
   We feel opposed extremes at once and
if I knew why we fly into these clouds
I might know why we never fly out

Surrounded everyday by thousands and more
   of affable enough, like-minded monsters
who don’t wish you well

and don’t wish you ill
   until you get to know them
He’s out there trying to make friends

but always says the wrong things


A patchy knowledge, unsystematic
   self-taught, private, extreme
I don’t care about the camera, friend,

I just care about the lens...
   These are random tales, all—
now her arms enfold me, then

her soft touch tight and fast

-May 11, 2011-