I'm tired.
So tired.
this world is too vast for me
I'm not a part of it.
never was.
Everything gray calls to me
The shadows say
I was always a ghost.
mirrors and doorways
are the same to me
as passable as windows.
I'm always watching through them
unafraid
behind their breakable
coldness
unable to pass
I'd have to shatter something
more fragile
in the glass

Nobody knows any more
than they ever did
anymore
everything and nothing
defines itself
as the universe
of right and wrong
neutralized
finally
every angle painfully
intact

insanity (reruns)

Reruns
re-run
back to where I started from
I should have walked
the first time
in Eden
the first one

the one unrecycled time
was when

reach take move give
delete
it takes more brains
more pain less pain

bring back
grow forward
grow back
go back
go back!

life in death in life
organize the little things
That find their ways
or replicas
back
on shelves
or floor space
they seem to think
they belong
enough to get there

biblical knowledge

A young man,
shoulders slouched,
form appreciative,
relaxed,
casual,
holds (a beating heart),
jaws working,
the apple.
what? she offered
her heart.
inside,
(the apple) crisp white flesh
entices
excuses
the cruelty of the bite
forgets
the openness of Eve
explains her fig leaves.

Inside
biblical knowledge
drips,
apple-blood
sweet, clear,
from
tooth-scraped little ridges,
toothmarked
concave
mouth-shaped
sweet flesh
her thin red
peeled back,
skin-deep
she offered

biblical knowledge

A young man,
shoulders slouched,
form appreciative,
relaxed, casual,
holds a tooth--marked
heart with taut red little ridges
bleeding only apple blood


jaws working
only apple flesh-- shrugs, like: "what?
she offered--"



forgets the cruelty of the bite
biblical knowledge explains
the openness of Eve,
her figurative leaves
surgically immodest
heartless
emptying


tasting
the sweet clear juices
the crisp fruit
cold crunch

white fruit flesh
scraped, mouth-shaped concave
bleeding only
apple blood

he
shrugs excuses
explains
forgets

(like: "what? she offered").

first draft...

A young man holds a beating
heart
inside, crisp white flesh
excuses the cruelty of the bite,
forgets
the openness
of Eve
explains her fig leaves

lamplight

Only a woman
Could watch a moth
Fluttering against clear glass
And envy the
Moon- forgotten stillness
Of a white sill