Stalemate

Sick blue saxophones see the thermal inferno.

He has said “I will never lose the true facts.”

She has said, “I will never abandon my corners ”

Music drifts to hell.

Where will they go in the silence that follows?

Moon and Stars

Stars do not stoop before moons,
Only before an invisible God. Ringing the multiverse with fire.

Moons are delicate,
Sound like flutes as they spin.
Moons are sleepy debutantes
Over each devouring body.

Stars, arrogant,
Give each other more space
Than is wise.

Butter

Guiltless and capable,
The butter knife lounging on the counter.

Butter is soft and weak,
And hates her,
Uet through her dulling days
She never forgets butter.

Big Eye

Makeshift trees
Conceal the emptiness of space.
I am removed from nature’s skin
As crust from an eye.
Too often I have peered
Over my back fence for
A better view

No one should see that much
We are startled giants
With weak hearts

Space rolls over its
Grassy base
There is no room for
A thing that watches
Yet a big eye cleans
The back of the world
With lashes

Female

the globe gingerly turns
on an axis she would not
have picked for herself
if given the choice

she has a crush on the
black hole
that calls her sometimes

something about that
event horizon
feels so remarkably other

her identity is unknown to her
not even the sun will tell
her she is gifted

The Last Painting

Labored seeing –
The artist as his canvas drifts away.

The IV hums a little.
They only let him squeeze
The morphine button every five minutes.

4 out of every 5 minutes
Is a dog gnawing on his body.

Please…
He begs…
One more painting and I will go
Without complaint.

Less of You

The advertisement promised diligent bread.
The sort of thing that will eat for you

While you bask prideful in a fashionable,
Contemporary hunger.

The world loves you as it loves itself.

That’s why it wants less of you, Dear.
Of course.

Don’t doubt.
Pout.
There is a new job coming,
To be done by someone else.