Thursday, September 8, 2016

Hostages


Hostages

1.
how did we get so 
so old   so filled with desire
for babies and Bentleys and forgot
all about the ocean, fireflies 
the small quiet miracles
of hands in the dark

tell me, tell me a secret
whispered along the chords of my heart
 sheer white walls
tears and futile impulses

perceived limits of energy
technology of confusion
I need a palpable mouth to kiss
to save me from insanity
every day   the masks we have become
a trap   vortex   a black
hole in the dream

2.
entering a vacuum
all is reduced   a millisecond of
fondness and years of doubt
this level of dissatisfaction
simply rises floods in April
August drought and dust

all measurement 
inclines toward an ultimate
a long wait   a smooth
clear lake cold beyond
cold still in July

this is disarming
a race in a room with no door
an open maze   black lace bra
white cotton panties   all summer
working on the ultimate ponytail
the taste of watermelon and rum
your steady redeeming breath in sleep
night of solstice   morning
of revolution


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