Imagine
battalion of one
a solidary soldier on future museum grounds
black steel
cannon
Imagine
battalion of one
a solidary soldier on future museum grounds
black steel
cannon
How appropriate is death
By stoning to punish adultery,
That sin against social cohesion;
How fitting that the flock itself
Collectively carry out the sentence
On the egregious one outside the tightly drawn
Theocratic circle.
As only a reclusive screenwriter can
The veins in his varnished hands pulse
At the typewriter helm,
Sliding Glass Patio Pictures Presents
Los Angeles smog draped like a tarp
Over trenchant skyscrapers
Under the microscope
they watch me dance
arms outstretched
misinterpretating
the beauty in simplicity
In our lover’s ballet
I long to touch you,
become a part of you
Chisels and planes hum in the hands of pious men
Joining empty spaces
jesus hats
wears a black hat
that says jesus is lord
i call her jesus hats
He takes down a bottle
from above the fridge
and asks me about Roswell
The children were there, & then they weren’t. For ten years at least, mothers had feared that the bread of affliction would return. The hotline that was supposed to help exploded. And these weren’t the only serious side effects.
I’m a prescription that nobody can decipher.
You’re whatever pill may cause drowsiness.
The new religion of devout followers
believe what the eye cannot see
the holy trinity of protons, electrons, neutrons
dressed in their robes in their laboratory churches
eagerly masticating Eve’s apple
consuming all they can from the tree of knowledge