The Narrator

The narrator is mopping the floor with my tears,
Which for him fall like rain through a hole
In the roof.
What promise this day had,
Born at the height of the malleable moon.
What now,
Since favor and faith and fancy have
The narrator begins with an article
That will barely clothe me from the cold.




I have been outsonneted by a suction cup,
Clinging to my window like a starfish to the sea.
Lately my similes get away from me,
Dogs always unearthing hideous bones in
My backyard.
The curious climate of my moist mind
Is most conducive to marigolds, azaleas,
The pancreas.
My face is all sugar,
My tongue a cola.
See the stained glass the suction cup holds?
Memorabilia from an unremembered saint.


Shades of Blue

So many shades of blue,
No Blue
Circumference Blue
Film Strip Friday Blue.
I wore a flimsy film strip to the Blue Ball.
Cobalt courted me.

Yellow felt alienated.
Yellow did not go.
Green was the doorman.
My friendship with Sky and Navy and aquamarine
Has taught me how to talk with my eyes.
Nothing is louder than blue eyes,
Staring at me from the corner with the
Blossoming wallflowers,
Dance with me.


You Bring Catastrophe

Peace follows my soul –
Peace to hunters,
To prey,
To pray.
You are clear as water,
Eating azure threads of infinity .

Which flowers are nursing men along the river?
You do not know the catastrophe you will bring,
A spring thaw drowning everything under daylight .


The silence crouches behind my personality,
Stalking it.
Silence is a ghoulish hunter,
Seeking to drink the stark clarity of my water
And eat the bright blue impulses of my
Ever wakeful mind.
What stupid flowers grow by the river,
Not knowing a flood is coming to submerge them
In a chocolate brown night.
But if they knew,
What would the difference be?
I slow down,
Cover my ears.