Wednesday, August 26, 2009

let them eat poetry

News From America 
The body is 90% horror. We only use half our brains
and that half is for legitimizing hostility.
This body is crooked. It drank too much
It comes undone like a cassette.
*
My niece’s 3rd birthday party raged on.
Twenty pink balloons rubbed the ceiling.
The cake was hallucinatory. It was understood
that I would hover around it all evening.
*
My mother is dating one of the smartest people in the world.
Who it turns out is icky.
He speaks many languages. They watch trees shake
over the edge of the river.
He wants to French kiss her wherever they go.
She lets him go and he ascends.
*
I walk beside the ghosts of my dog and cat.
Take myself into the mountains. Burn
under a quarter-full moon.
The octopus in me opened his strange mouth
like James Tate
disappearing in a cloud of ink.