03-05-2018, 12:17 AM
Last Year of College, and I'm Terribly Depressed: Four Ditties
Syncing
Saturday morning shower hair
pillow at my bedside damp and salty
stains, teardrop pearl
headphones plugged into my phone, into your naked
ears: deep in the world, you breathe
I've got your music.
The Ganja Dream
They'll find out what isn't
there to be found when they look
deep into your bloody gaze and guess
by the stench of three-days-living-on-the-bed
something else, something less
than the snowglobe of your stupor.
Slow Jolt
The seat of my soul lies dead upon the floor
of a bus, its blood streaming past the driver's seat
and out the door. My body is the metal bars
that block the drooping heads of sleepers
from the windows, my mind each empty seat --
The journey's over. All other selves have left. I can't catch up.
Angel
Your blood's on the doorframe.
A child rises in the oven.
A yellow wind
blows through city streets,
and the sea
opens up
like some drunken fool.
Now swallow me whole.
Syncing
Saturday morning shower hair
pillow at my bedside damp and salty
stains, teardrop pearl
headphones plugged into my phone, into your naked
ears: deep in the world, you breathe
I've got your music.
The Ganja Dream
They'll find out what isn't
there to be found when they look
deep into your bloody gaze and guess
by the stench of three-days-living-on-the-bed
something else, something less
than the snowglobe of your stupor.
Slow Jolt
The seat of my soul lies dead upon the floor
of a bus, its blood streaming past the driver's seat
and out the door. My body is the metal bars
that block the drooping heads of sleepers
from the windows, my mind each empty seat --
The journey's over. All other selves have left. I can't catch up.
Angel
Your blood's on the doorframe.
A child rises in the oven.
A yellow wind
blows through city streets,
and the sea
opens up
like some drunken fool.
Now swallow me whole.