little boy

off

where pain shifts like the ping
of engine

the sound of
                  a thousand cats puking

I

perched on a tree branch
outside your mind

      a mountain top
is flat

if you sleep upon it

think about it

the sky is a blanket of dewdrops
that are vast stars
                               of the void

and you are cold in your sleep
so I cover you with my dreams

wondering

what will you look like in
20 years        I can't even imagine
what you will look like   tomorrow

when I am an afterthought of time

when I peer down from the
blank clouds
that are the deep black
ground

eyes

ivy white and homeless

trying to catch a glimpse
of your mind

no matter how often
we disappear

forever

my little boy

the problem will not go away

it was a nothing vote
banned in the crosshairs
of permit relations
no dance license

sensationalized official releases
running smoothly thru news boxes
heavily sedated radio waves
convulsing on the street
under the lights of the iron sweeps

no eyed glasses
lined up outside
     blue rats in military formation
formal head gear
broken lifeless teeth

they hung their smiles
from lightposts died out
gleaming like triggers
gun pushers drugged engines

no widely released lineage
steeped in rotting cords
clueless memorialized slime

full of shit

cafe table hustle

against the table
the rain like nickles
from some lost pocket
fall
discolored and
useless
to the cold silver
speckled ground

under the tables
the spiders born in
back of taxis
new york to holbrook
arizona
never knowing their fathers
ask their mothers
how often in their lives
will they have to
watch the sky fall

and the answer unfolds over the
endless flooded grate

until they move the tables away
darling
until they put the tables away