corpse gas

saucer white eyes
my carcass embalmed
in morphine like solitude
one once asleep has,
again to earth i walk ,
wondering what hunger
would be like
if i had any innards left at all,
having served my incarceration
in wooden box below ground,
it was a hiccup
that startled me,
how could i,
i gulped in air but
no internal gases,
oh hang on
i had those of decay
my breath must stink,
and wanted to cease
this jerking that
made my walk lopsided,
beyond the gates
a town not so familiar
my house someone else’s
stood on clipped lawn
i hiccuped gain more loudly
looked around it was dark
and silent,
are you a monster
i jumped,
looking down at a little girl
who startled me so
and my hiccups stopped,
no i just have wind

descent and decay

iron blanket drawn

over graveyards shoulder,

time grizzles in the wind,

on haunches leaving flowers

new ones that repair the vase

to a certain brightness,

tattooed hand

pores darkened by labor

fingers stained by cigarette,

a tear would not fall

enough had shown at the time,

those fingers took a kiss

pressed it to headstone

no inhibition

despite the rumors that had become

a fiction contorted on nights breath,

driven within hours

in a landscape changing

mesh of community falling

into disrepair,

his longing had seen violence

memory carried weapons

and he could only think of

retribution,

slate wiped of all marks

that defined a normal history,

he still had a key

that room there own,

now cleansed and let to someone

else,

he visited sometimes

walking amongst others possessions

picturing his own

and her blood

scarring the walls

 

garments that have been pressed

seek her in her grassy tomb

flesh fleece and evening star,

murmurs rise from escaped soul

mouth a shrine to heavens kiss,

text on stone chiseled deep

scythe a scalpel to those around,

to a vow made on cradle key

in binding earth no more a sleep

a million flakes of tempted tremors,

noonday heat rises with the sun,

rise up on quivering breeze

her broken tongue is healing

love a radiant throng

the sick longing eye and dropping of

gossamer veil,

chants names of those  exposed

beyond wither,

whole flesh again

i wish back that angry fist

spirits breathe in sensual undulate

on pages of book no longer departed

i have said my piece up to space,

enameled hand paints gallery in the cave

images as she had been growing wild

reaching out,

some say i am a crook

a felon

a murderer

an abuser

LA has no cheap glories for them to remember

i am hunted,

drone circling over head,

zeal of vocal chords will not be heard