October 28th 2021

You can learn a lot about yourself

by your relationship to rain, what

you use to interrupt it. Palm, tongue,

or jerrycan. Crown, rib, or eyeball.

Strychnine local waters lapping loosely

in the font begins the beachside funeral.

Over by the buffet, forcing meat

between my teeth, I bump into a guy

who says, as rain tattoos the sand, buddy,

you’ve gotta forget what death does to a face – 

mouth folding like a shattering zeppelin,

eyes like an oval of sky fizzed with flame

then greyer than fog in front of rotten temples – 

if you wanna continue to look at the living.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s