Fragments 2

I watch her in sideways mirrors.
We know who we are,
but she disappears so frequently
and it leaves me breathless
and poisonous

_____________________________

I woke this morning to her breath on my lips
but
it was only the oscillating blades of a fan.
Perhaps they can be sharpened
to be congruent with her wit.

_____________________________

When we abandon pretense
there is murder in our mornings
that we do not bother to mourn.

_____________________________

She is lovely
but
she writes
beautifications
of
modern devils.

_____________________________

It is not as if a train
can choose its tracks
and jump and change
into a life where
the men with flailing symbols
are unable to control each swing and strain.

_______________________________

-a cross made of axes,
a peasant's sword.
He promised them a voice.
Beware of such men.

________________________________

"I will not be a spine!" she says,
though crippled by a crime made on her behalf.
I tire of these diamond rings
that my friends give girls to squeeze
so that they will never know what they'll become
when deprived of self-affirming craft.
Smile at their open bars.

And who are you, or I to send
our fingers to the eyes
of those pitiable hopefuls,
while somewhere someone more sadistic
smashes bricks onto
our tiny faces and says,
"I await a cliche description
of the way we die."
?

_________________________________

Terrible as an army
with blood on their breath,
their whispered death padding
the cacophony of iron-shod feet.

_________________________________

Oh, baby, if you don't believe me,
then why do you look so afraid?
If the truth sets us free, then a lie
is a whale in the waves, powerful
until it's spun around and lands onto the sand.
We grab harpoons to protest
this encroachment of our pristine beach,
break a spear-tip in a skull and throw the rest
into a sparkling sea-side cave, and drink fermented life
until the water washes all the sin away.