Soothing, Say

Any fevered who in a why
cast the battle scarred bones,
bled blind of their longevity,
bitter oracles they are now, see
the silence drops asleep
on smiling toothy ridges, clink
goes the starved scarecrow scales.

A shadow collapses and
rises a doubled over wing,
a lazy mosaic breaking in the face
choking the wind's crumbling jaws
lapping low at the fray,
waiting thick for hand ringed tears,
still close to bloodlines receded,
still closer blunt mortar bolts
to drown clinging cross hairs.

Just the same, who- turn-
and why- still so young
they beat back the deep fall
of a thousand summers
oh
and then it is the same again-
just the old bones
still from tossed hand.

Soothing Say (pre-revision)

For any who in a why
cast the carved up bones and see
the silence drops asleep
on smiling toothy ridges, clink
goes the starved scarecrow scales.

A shadow collapses and
rises a doubled over wing,
a lazy mosaic breaking in the face
choking the wind's crumbling jaws
lapping at the fray,
waiting thick in neat tears
until the scissor snip
cross hairs lower.

Just the same, who turn
and why it is young
and they beat deep with fall
of a thousand summers
and then it is the same again-
just the old bones
croak from tossed hand.

Hair

It shall drag dead claws
through your scratchy clean choke
the straight sounds
you throw at me herd begging
to chase your shelter
from the thick forge, bitter
of the ink blown wind its
sooty furnace of strokes.

Strand, it will roar down the hillocks
no splitting waives over
the stomachs of pages you read
send them scowling, still- half
purchased half eaten gloss chewed
promises I wouldn't keep
(for sale, with a little knifing).

Grow and grow it will I will
and live and scream mercenary knots
from locked fat bottoms rich, sworn
against the threat to
profit you pretty
with every second you sell.

You Are Not

I sent a far cry, hoarse jumping
against breathing on
every broken sleep wall
to find the one false edge
that wouldn't see me back.

So I would fall light
between the frayed roots stretched
over the dead of the concrete,
lending my joints away
to weed a spilled lock.

So I would hear the snagged drum
tap the ragged seams,
make the dark hunger in song
husked from lips of ripe pulp.

You are not the one
patching that swollen lonesome
hack of a closed door,
nor the one to tug me out
asleep in this crowded silence.

Betray Me

Make me ask you in stories,
point to my thrown (out) edges
see that they birth yawning
with fat floating wings
though I tell them to stay.

Take my graceless waiting-
with the hand of change
I bluff- lie to my greed
tie it loud ropes punctuated
(or I'll rob it back
to where I got lost
in you.)

In this treachery
make the quiet easy
and its reluctant death stolen
smart from me where I guard
it with sharp pleasantry.