fiery death?

When death comes for me, if I can see its coming, it will melt in my hands and transform into something extraordinary. For my hands work. They are fired by a furnace which moves my body this way and that. I fling open doors, rotate my body with the horizon, marvel at my limbs- one, two, three, four, obedient extremities - what regard for rhythm, what regard for willfulness. And so, my body fires itself. My body is a furnace, set into motion by a fire, a fire which is me, extended through fire into transmogrification. For the hands alive with my heat stoke the fire in all they touch, in all they level, in all they erect, so that this furnace may rage and grow with my courage, become an inferno, engulf sameness in firestorm. And yes. My hands will touch death. But is this extraordinary? To lift one up with fire? All the ashen deaths that cloud my vision, poison my air, suffocate my fire, forcing me to crouch down and fan - these, and these alone weigh down a fiery will with difficulty. The deaths undied, how extraordinary, and how mighty in the face of the death that melts.

valentine's on easter

I know you said you knew what I did.
But you do not know what I did.
I never touched her.

I know I lied and said I was free.
But he did not come inside me.
He splashed my eyelids.

I know just what to do to you
I'll throw you up against the door
I'll fuck you here and on the floor
I'll slap your face and pull your hair
I'll poke you through your underwear

Don't touch me or I'll grab that gun
You jealous prick I hope you die
I'm gonna go and fuck that guy
You'll wish that you were never born
So just go home and watch some porn

Foolishly I scramble for the gun,
I put the barrel in her mouth,
She bites down hard.
There's one more mound in my backyard.

my blender

if you thought your blender kicked ass, you were wrong.
there can be but one most ass kickin blender, and it is mine.

these things are meant to be eaten -
bananas, crab, steak, celery, cheese.
these things are not meant to be eaten -
spoons, carburetor, glass, clock, paper.
but I eat as I please,
because my machine wishes to satisfy my desires.

"Oh, please Mike, let me fix you a mercury cotton smoothie!
I promise it won't be lumpy."
"No! Go away! I'm trying to sleep.
What are you doing in my room?"
"It was cold on the counter and I was lonely, so lonely.
Plus, the coffee pot was lookin at me funny,
her eyes were all googly like she was on somethin,
and I started to get scared. I started to think
about how I awoke last night to freakish screams
only to look down in horror at the hideous, mangled wreck
that was once automatic can opener.
I swear it wasn't me!"
"You're sweating. Let me get a damp towel...
Oh dear, I'm afraid you might have a fever, blendie.
This just won't do. You have to start taking care of yourself."
"I know, but it's so hard! and you need me now more than ever!"
"That is no excuse. Now this is what we are going to do:
Take two of these xanax...there...now close your eyes...good...
Relax. I'm gonna carry you back to the counter, tuck you in,
and sing you a song as you go to sleep."
"Mike?"
"Yes?"
"Will you sing me some Gram Parsons? Your voice is so pretty."
"Sure."

...so don't play this crazy game with me no longer,
'cause I won't be able to resist my rage,
and the gun that's hanging on the kitchen wall, dear,
is like a roadsign pointing straight to satan's cage...
Goodnight.

bartender

bartender lady,
you are perfect.
to say what you said
is to melt my heart.

you know my mouth is not my own,
but mine to share,
and that touching my lips to yours
is a purpose.

But my heart sinks as it melts,
because I am not desirable.
I am wicked
and defeated.

silly beginnings

I like you, trout.
your eyes are weird.
you look at me,
but you also look at my foot.
what does that look like?
a foot-face?

Keep sucking at the air.
it's so cute.
if it wasn't so cute,
I might put you back in the water.
but you look like a teething baby,
which is cute,
so I will not.

Your gills are crazy.
they ripple and flex.
If I had a car,
I would want it to have gills
that ripple and flex
along each door.
and I would want them to be gooey and fleshy,
and I would stick my arm through the fleshy goo
while I was driving,
and flip you off
through my gill flaps.