No Names

You cannot see
the dead unless
you look out a window—behind you—from a mirror—where you see yourself
looking out…………over your
shoulder you will see
the dead drift up
they wear their cape of glory
folktales and hearsay such as the evil eye……or the horn
to ward off devil people
seem like child’s tales—but I saw your gray eyes paler than a bloated cloud
and behind you the mountains dark
and oily they are coming and it will be grand

Oh, This Grimy Laugh

Covers cracks
after lie
a slithering
deep within
around and in the crevices of my spine
soaks up
all that is good
from spleen to
exhales me into
its deep gorge
it is unlit
dank and greasy
I try to pull my
heart out from its
try to pull a skirt
up to cover my gigantic
I’m skinning my own bone here
to provide a feast

I Scribbled a List of Things

I needed to get done before death
before World War Z
before my mind turns damp and swampy

Things have to get done
I can add a few more…….things
but I can’t think of any
that would move me
thrust life into me
crack me open to spill
this divine essence
that culminated into
to do list

Bleary-eyed I
peer at my reflection
in the window
I can see all the flaws
even in the dark
they glow
peer back at me
sockets and
a warped chin
never quite a do-er
a semi
half in
half out

Now all seems
worthless as I

Love is a Killing Thing

You got it?
Amazing and
God bless

You lost it?
Sucks for you

Never had it?
Sorry for you

Sometimes it disappears
for decades
re-appears as a nebula

Other times it saunters in
a whore
magical temptress offering trinkets
from universes beyond
anything to get you into her womb

It held us together
rocked us
with our babies
split us like heaven and hell
it’s a killing thing

Five years later
I walk into the deli
to buy liverwurst
you creep in
see me
turn and walk out

That’s the death of it
the underbelly
so much of a has-been we are
repulsed by our very own