passing
moth to the flame its
wings shrivel and it falls
at the feet of a cat
it is transformed
bug to toy- pouncing
the cat tires, leaving it for another whim
and it shivers on the
ground
spent yet striving it
becomes bitter finally and expires
on the porch where i
watch it hollow as ants
take meaty goodness
from its corpse later i sweep it into
the garden where it
becomes mulch at best
pity i will not be so
useful in my passing
end of the templar
feed me to the dogs,
who having fasted unwillingly for days are hungry, hungry
i who had been their
master will be a repast, a feast short but sweet
and quickly forgotten
as the next fallen fellow is thrown into the pit
for their tearing snouts
and sharp teeth to shred and separate
i will be not even a
memory but a mention
in the book of names
that fades and fades as evenings pass
until even my shadow
has found succour in moonlight
my mantel will cover
the dusty furniture in the basements
until they tatter and
fall to ruin, forgotten even as the book's pages
falls from its binding
and ashes to the floor scatter in the breeze
and i have already lived
many other lives
each more insignificant
than the last until i stop bothering
and accept the dire
wolves cries of rest, rest, rest
but there is no rest
for the restless, only the promise of remorse
who she may be
coinage of baby teeth
she purchases her own extinction
bitter for a widow's
mite, weary for a push - just one nudge
off the brink where
she teeters and fearing the fall, backs
into the welcoming arms
of ennui,
better death by boredom
that take the chance of change
for she is frightened
by what she sees beyond that steamy veil
of clutching hands and
writhing legs, she is faltering and reaching
and yet flees at last,
rather than risk it she can try anew
another aeon another
aeon
when she is older and
more used and has less to lose
or more depending on
who she has become by then
it was enough
the teen aged girl at
the bus station had a small
plastic bag of dirty
clothes and a tattered stuffed bear
he had seen better days,
and so had she
purse full of downers,
as if she weren't as low as she'd ever been already
pocketful of spanged
change -tokens of sympathetic disapproval from passers by
they could say they
helped her now, in their guilty moments
enough to get to the
next town
enough to get a bit
further from her troubles or so it seemed
as it was they clung
to her skin like smoky film
but it was momentary
her respite
and she took it
everything else was
disposable as was she
her parents looked out
the windows every now and then
to make it seem like
they cared
jumped at the ring of
a phone
in case she was dead
and breathed a sigh of relief
at the answering telemarketers
feeling somehow despondent
at how peaceful the house was in her absence
that they could laugh
now that her drowning presence had been removed
watched the younger
son for signs of the same behaviour
he blindly went about
his business
glad for the attention
and it was enough
enough to get to the
next day
when she landed in the
waiting city and turned a few tricks for another handful of pills
it was enough to get
her by
and them to resume living
and her to stop being such a heavy bird around their necks
their adolescent albatross
and she forgot the bad things
as the chemicals changed
her thoughts
and she shifted into
the concrete as businessmen
walked on her and it
was enough
tiny murders
paws up the cat batted
at the mouse, crumpled under its claws
can we call it cruel
to watch the feline delight at the distress of the rodent
don't we commit a hundred
tiny murders a day
we compliment the face
of the woman whose back
we will speak behind
in only moments after her passing
the neighbours' paper
goes home in your pocket, to leave him without
we lie when the truth
would suffice our only victim ourselves
little deaths of self
and service minute pieces of something
valuable that we cast
aside because we are too damn lazy to hold on
the cat at least takes
some pleasure in its actions,
if only for that brief
amount of time while we see our sins before they exist
and agonize over them
long after their event
the cat has peace of
mind
we have shadows
feasted
he lapped the dust off
the mirror hungry for a taste of nostalgia
the house reeked of
it and he feasted on it
the thick forboding
resentment in the kitchen
the anger and dissatisfaction
of the bedroom
the cloying scent of
envy prevailed and like a gourmet
he savoured every hint
of flavour, in all its combinations
regardless of how sick
or how twisted
it filled him for a
while
calmed the empty feeling
below his belly
but when he needed more
there was none to be had
every morsel had been
drained from the old building,
its faded furniture
a shade paler in his passing
and he shambled off
into the silence to find more misery
to sate his endless
hunger
janus' eyes
she filled the squirt
gun with acid and aimed
watching in a fascinated
horror as his features gave way
and shifted, flowing
like wax down his face
eyes boiling and saw
him clutch at the air to find something
something to give him
footing, to give him a hold,
before everything melted
and rippled off as the river bends
she gathered up her
parcel as he staggered about the room,
arms flailing in desperate
attempts to find her find her
silent so he wouldn't
hear, he with his agony and anger
slipping out the door
with the eyes of a long dead ghud in a jar
eyes which were no more
hers than his
playmate
the child tossed back
her golden hair and smiled down at her playmate
gone still
he seemed to wish to
play no more, his hands stiff fingered and swollen
and when kicked he didn't
whimper as he had
she felt a monumental
puzzlement at his sudden silence
his pleas and cries
now silent, he lost his appeal
she bent forward to
examine her chum,
his torn overalls stained
in urine and blood
and wrinkled her nose
in distaste
he was no longer fun
and
she no longer craved his company
humming a soundless
tune then skipping merrily she left the woods
leaving him to the worms
and chuckling as she listened to his mother
calling him home
what he always did
he threw bottles against
the side of the house she lived in
the woman who betrayed
him and he screamed obscenities into the wind
inside she hid in the
closet and clutched a baseball bat
ironic as she hated
the sport
but she knew he'd never
come in
he never did
and eventually he'd
tire and leave
he always did
but tonight she heard
the sudden silence of nothing
as the crashing stopped
and the cursing ceased
and her world briefly
ended as she listened
to the deafening sound
of the door creaking open
murmurs
the murmur of one thousand
souls rustle in me like a chorus of wings
their sighing welling up from deep within my breast
echoing through the caverns of my mind
i cannot say if they are those i've been in lives past
or those i've wronged - i only know they are here,
clinging to me like smoke
a sick child to its mother
a tick burrowed within
the skin of a dying dog
i know they are here but not why
they haunt me - darting about my sight in the corners
as cobwebs do in houses abandoned
and i am the house here
shuttered and empty
alone and aloft
on a craggy hill
my foundations crumbling threatening to send me crashing into the sea
which i will find as
ceaseless as their breathing
as fathomless as their accusations
as hollow as my apologies
as angry as their responses
though shadows they have more substance than rock or wood or steel
though wraiths they have more voice than my recollections
though faultless i carry
their sins upon my back like a weight
my albatross to scorn me to curse me to fail me
to sink deeper into the depths as i founder
they do not cease nor stop but
gain momentum as a rock hurled through old glass
stopping only after its target has shattered
as i am shattered
shards of my being rasping through my chest in a consumptive wheeze
brittle leaves make such a sound as you walk through them in dark woods
the crunching of something dead
bones rattling together in an obscene monkey grinder's case
the sallow cheeked chimp
dancing to the tune of my despair
rattling his tin cup for widow's mites in an apathetic crowd
the crowd within my person
invisibles
murmuring against my ears from the inside
and although i am never
alone
i am bereft
sucking marrow from the bones of my lovers
weighing time on the head of a pin
waiting for extinction
and silence
and solace
and finding
nothing but dust
and debris
would you like that?
would you like it if
i ripped myself against the barbed wire?
would you like that?
would it be better if
i were to fall beneath the hooves of the flock?
would you like that?
i would no longer question
you.
i would no longer hinder
you.
i would no longer hamper
you.
would you like that?
would it please you
to harm me again? soft flesh against hard fingers?
would you like that?
would it please you
to deter me? from my dreams? from my hopes?
would you like that?
if i were to grow silent.
if i were to be servile.
if i were to be absent.
would you like that?
would you aspire to
taint me with your decay?
would you like that?
would you aspire to
sallow my skin and suck my marrow?
would you like that?
when i cannot remember
joy.
when i cannot lift hand
against.
when i cannot meet your
eyes.
would you like that?
but of course you would
a thousand i'm sorries
a thousand i'm sorries
i'm scared to move for
fear of waking you with the sheets moment
so i lay there bathed
in my sweat my fear my shame
your breathing deep
and unremorseful
and i need it to stop
i need you to stop
stop it stop it stop
but waking all is different
until the mood strikes
when your eyes darken
and i see that slipping into your brain
the ability you have
to sudden turn like a dog and bite the hand that feeds
then it will be i'm
sorries
and i'll lay in bed
scared to breathe
for fear of waking you
not knowing who you'll
be
nine unrelated verses
verse one
he is called by jungles
in his dreams
the squelch of mud in
his boots
the buzz of mosquitoes
at his ears
napalm burning his eyes
and he is home
waking disappoints him
there is no steel in
his hands
verse two
unforgiven
the trigger pulled the
tree felled the life snuffed
and he is unforgiven
verse three
mouth open in a soundless
howl
the dog felt the impact
of the car and crushed into it
its bones giving gentle
sway to the metal
a sullen sound followed
a thudding of meat against stone
and he lay on the ground
staring at the night sky
wondering if his master
had missed him yet
verse four
cadaverous hands tracing
the line of her jaw
the sallow tipped fingers
drew down to the collar bone
and tightened for a
moment
before turning into
a profusion of butterflies soaring into the night
nothing was believable
nothing as it seemed
so she thought
before she joined him
in flight
verse five
i watched the hawk circle
its prey
then tiring it flew
back to its perch on the electric wires
pull out a cel phone
and order pizza
everything is corrupted
by technology
everything
verse six
petroglyphs striking
a pose
as the tourists walked
by
then relaxed back into
their wild dance
at the passing steps
come night they retreated
into little cracks
and watched telly until
tomorrow's appearance
verse seven
the whim of colliding
electrodes hum
thrumming under my feet
like midgard's serpent
twining the globe
a pulse a tune a beat
squeezing now the hum
subsides
crushed beneath its
coil
hindering the avatar
from his appointed toil
verse eight
the vases mouth hollowed
and opened like a gate
the flowers entered
within its depths like some odd
phallic penetration
hanging there limply dead and wilting
clinging to colour like
a blind man clutches his cane and
the vase is no more
aware now than before
it is only full
verse nine
his chest is an open
expanse of wires
the electric pulse of
his clockwork heart
is the spark that lights
the cold tvs glare
he is no less human
than i
more metal than meat
but he bleeds like me
that fluid response
alone is enough
to sustain our differences
through yet
another winter
prison
the stick used to mark
the passing of time has broken
plaster has grown thin
the walls that held
them are out
are the walls that hold me in
has it truly been so
long since i saw the skye
has it really been as
long as it seems
or is that like everything
else
and an echo of my dreams
i am cast of iron and
metal so cold
even the rats have shied
from my side
babe of bast
glass shattered and
the air around her froze
stuck for a moment in
time
she saw the rock slam
through the window and into the wall beside her
the sound of shrapnel
is a whistling one
and her home fell about
her like snow or ash
all that ran through
her mind was
where is the cat
outside her pet watched
the building collapse
and turned back into
the street to locate new digs
bast makes practical
creatures
roosevelt's bust
roosevelt's bust spoke
to me from the corner of the desk
unfortunately it was
portuguese, and i'm rather rusty at it
i asked him to repeat
a word and he grew silent and surly
certainly he couldn't
have made a good president with so little patience
he is however, an excellent
paper weight
the same cannot be said
for me, i regret i wiggle too much
i would send papers
askew quickly
faithful bust, hefty
bust
filled with scent and
sense
you are inspiration
and sophistication
all wrapped up in a
tiny plastic figure
head easily removable,
flammable until dry
delightful and yet dead
what on earth will they
think of next
what am i thinking now?
divination
shifting through ashes
he found his bones and picked at them wondering
what future if any would
they tell
what fate could they
hint or were they sullen at their torching
arranged as they were
in soot
they appeared to be
the hand of ghud clutching at hearts
another angle and he
saw the plates on the back of a long dead dinosaur
did they hint at extinction?
yet again he moved and
saw yet another aspect of the bones,
heated to a ceramic
texture by the flames
in this view he could
see nothing but a lorry hitting a figure
he continued his orbit
around the heap
determined to eventually
find a divination he fancied
he settled when he could
almost find (if he squinted just so)
a bag which he decided
must indeed contain his clean laundry
and sufficed it at that
scar on my wrist
her eyes stray to the
scar on my wrist
i stuff my hands under
the table
ashamed at my weakness
it wasn't as if i didn't
know how to cut them correctly
i just faltered
just for a moment
the moment my brother
needed to break my door and take my blade
not much of a scar now
not after all these
years
just a white line of
failure
travelling along my
veins
reminding me that i
don't even know how to die right
burial at sea
it lacked a certain
victorian style this death
no lilies at her breast,
no lace pillow to rest her head
not even the forced
gaiety of a wake
with laughter to see
her on her way
instead stiff fingers
curled tightly about her own gnarled wrist
as if holding back her
own hand from harming its owner
the roar of the street
sweeper did not hearken her deafened ears
as the water poured
around her on the darkened road
nor did the driver notice
her frail small body coursing
with the battered leaves
and litter into the open mouthed sewer
while it was without
dignity perhaps
it was nonetheless more
than she had expected
in the queue
two people in front
of me there was a large woman at the grocery store queue
and her left butt cheek
slipped out of her dangerously short shorts
this was not the coy,
subtle hint of flesh as in the movies,
but the migration of
a continent, like the separating land masses as pangea broke apart
a slow moving but unstoppable
barge, unloosing from its moors and setting to sea
i noticed a genesis
of customers to the next aisle, men looking in the air,
women busying themselves
with purses but i was transfixed,
suddenly directly behind
her, as more unveiled itself to me, a stranger,
than seemed polite without
at least a brief introduction
most would have fled
before that sudden flux of flesh,
and ghud knows i should
have
but i was mesmerized
by its movement, much like that of my lava lamp
all soft and oozing
and buoyant and had it been actual lava,
i would be incinerated
by my own inaction
perhaps it was some
grand deity nudging me to realize, in time of crisis,
i may well suffer for
my morbid sense of wonder
waiting for his headlights
torrential rain poured
on her head, but the dog sat out in the weather
she was waiting
waiting for the headlights
to pierce the darkness
waiting for her master
to come home and take her into the warm safe house
by the time night had
drizzled away
and the sun began to
struggle through dark clouds
she had wearied, her
head sinking to her chest but she did not falter
he would come home soon
as he always did
the bowl was empty of
food but she did not wonder
he would fill it as
he always did
as soon as the headlights
came, beckoning his approach
but they did not come
that night, nor the next day and she wondered,
but did not falter
when the bowl was long
empty rainwater had sustained her,
but that too had dried
she felt no concern
he would come, he always
came
when she heard the other's
truck barrel down the drive
after a long passing
of time
her tail began to wag
it was not her master,
but his litter mate
smelling near enough
to right to bring her joy
he rushed to her mumbling,
opening the kennel and she leapt upon him,
glad to see a face,
confused at his emotion
he should be pleased
to see such a fine dog, not weeping
as he gathered her in
his arms and took her into his truck
and away from her home
she didn't know to wonder
at the wrecked car they passed on the road,
the festive yellow tape
flickering in the wind like a serpent's tongue-
while he averted his
eyes, sobbing
she would have a new
home the other as a new master
close enough to his
litter mate to be acceptable
but she would always
have to wonder
when would his headlights
come?