american myths

and i'm standing in memphis,
sun studios to be exact,
or in the alley behind
sun studios to be
totally truthful

and i'm having a smoke,
and i'm imagining my ashes
are falling in the same place
as the ashes of elvis,
johnny cash,
jerry lee lewis (the killer),
or the great carl perkins
when they snuck out
to have smokes of their own

those young gods
of rock n roll

mama's boys, rebels,
southern punks,
go cat go,
great balls of fire,
that's alright mama,
i shot a man in reno
just to watch him die

some cloudy future day,
after america has rusted
and eaten itself to death,
some archaeologist
will dig this place up,
excavate the gold records,
guitars, and microphones

a timeline will be worked out,
and rock n roll gods,
and american myths,
will be born all over again

long live rock n roll

Tweaker Afternoon

Steph is claiming
she can dance
like the virgin Mary
seducing the ghost of God,
but Eddie is
too fucked up to care.

And he's staring out
through slits in tin foiled windows
wildly scanning the perimeter
for traces of FBI, or DEA,
or that CIA cyborg
that's programmed to
eradicate all the tweakers.

Angie moans
from her place on the floor.
And she's wearing nothing
but filthy cotton panties,
and she's complaining
that her tits hurt
and she's worried a hole
into the soft tissue.

Ty holds flame to glass
and starts the process
all over again.
"This is the last of it," he says
while hoping against hope
that the tweaker saints
will deliver more
and save him
from going out
into the harsh
vampire world.

And he remembers
when he was
a little boy,
and how his mom
would read him
Bible stories,
and he wonders
what she would think
if she were alive
to see him now

that he's all grown up
with no place to go.

When I had that fever

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1DJy9XUHpwk




When I had that fever
I saw spiders

big, hairy, unwholesome
spiders

they were crawling
on walls and ceiling
they were repelling
down silky lines
and checking
my pupils

I was begging
that they
go away

my son
was scared
and saying
what's wrong
with daddy?

nothing, said my ex
go to sleep

after the spiders
the dead came

my mother, brother
best friend
from high school
time to go, they said
I don't want to
I said, leave me be

through fog
I heard my ex
tell me to stop
screaming, but
I didn't know
I was screaming

she said after
two days of this
I've had enough

she was cruel
a slave
to her addictions

I lay in that state
for 3 days
before I found
strength
to drive myself
to the hospital

the doctor said
oh my god
when he looked
at the x-ray
of my inflamed
internal organs

I will
never forget that

hell of a thing
to hear your
doctor say

I was rushed
to surgery

sometimes
I think
I surrendered
to those visions

that I died
in those
sweaty sheets
and this unloved
life I've lived
since then
has been
the real
fever dream

will someone
wake me up

30 some odd years of f@ckin' up!

who did this to me, who made me
this way, i didn't start the fire but
i let the motherfucker burn, now
that i'm nearing ashes, it's time to
dance in the rain, and listen to the
sizzle as god's tears (or angel's piss)
extinguish the tiny flames that have
licked at my soul since birth.

i've drank the devils semen for long
enough, i'm tired of being hell's own
whore, a supernatural cocksucker,
time to put on my sunday best, wear
the white hat for awhile, drink the
kool-aid of the shiny happy people,
after 30 some odd years of fucking
up, it's time for a new approach.

Naming Dead Things

my aunt
was four years older
than me,
and in many ways
was like an older sister.

when I was nine
I remember us
lying in the grass,
beneath the night sky,
and staring at stars.
she liked to give names
to the stars.

"that one's Edith,
and that one's Anna,
and that one's Elijah,"
she would go
on and on.

"how do you know
which star is which?"
I would ask.

"I only name the dead ones."

"some stars are dead?"

"many are, but they are
so far away we still see
their light even after they're
gone."

"Why only name the dead stars?"

"I like naming
dead things.
it makes me feel strong,
like I'm giving life."

years later
my aunt gave birth
to a still born son.

she named him Sam,
and on his grave stone
she had inscribed the words

"may you shine like the stars."

He would stumble back to heaven

When I was a child of 5/6/7
we had a neighborhood mascot
a man, gnarled/bent/white
to a child he seemed ancient
(though in hindsight,
he was closer to 45/55/65)

He would tell us children
that he was God
we had no reason to doubt
He would also, eat uncooked noodles,
and sometimes,
when he smelled soured
with death/whiskey/wine
he would dance a mighty jig
sing out "CHARGE!"
and run head-first into the nearest
tree/dumpster/brick-wall
then bleeding, and clutching a bottle
he would stumble back to heaven

 

Published March 18, 2012

 

Then we melt again

Lover,
I left you
for a moment.
then returned
to find you,
coming again.
somehow,
we've crystallized
into one
sweating, thriving
creature.
thighs. sex. black hair.
all melted together.
friction, (like God)
works in
mysterious ways.
we rip,
we tear,
we manage
somehow.
to separate
into our
former shapes.
"I'll give you
an hour,"
she whispers
"then we melt again."

 

Published March 19, 2012