vertiginous

(inclined to frequent and often pointless change)

 

i miss the days when we would play and bring our gods to life

but there’s no god diving rod beyond this present strife

the caterpillar butterfly are autographs unsigned

i can’t have conversations with the images aligned

 

her past was fed to the undead and crystal linen white

nobody saw the skin rubbed raw from catching falling kites

and mother says a miracle will make me find the floor

i lick the dust off of the rust and go in search of more

 

i paid a whore to keep the score of every game in town

i paid her well but she could tell i never wrote it down

i’m writing until everything is everything i write

the moon is wearing nylons and removes them every night

 

i’m finally done with any sun that shines on apple cores

disquiet is the ocean breeze sold at a desert store

i mixed a moment’s mockery and left it in the bowl

the skin graph laughed until the math could no longer console

 

exfoliate and double date the windows that regret

the lingering of liquid pain after the lions left

i heard the word that you endured espresso empress lips

and the reprieve that you preferred came only when she sipped

 

the airport asked the astronaut to anchor angel wings

the cyber age has filled the page with words that look like bling

nobody never needed nothing except for the nine near me

only formless fruit will flourish when frozen by decrees

 

the spell check sect request respect and urges line revision

but all of this makes sense to me within my dark derision

your mundane mischief makes believe that matter matrix melts

but all the dew drop dripping vines are simply what is felt

 

so end the poem with promises of sugarplums and hugs

i’ll forage for the fabric fray on every single rug

and let forensic architects sift literary chatter

where everything that’s ever say will never really matter

 

***