Last Line

I am writing anywhere
carrying and placing mugs,
leaving rings of condensation,
atomization around
tired eyes, staring out
into light polluted skies
no STARS! My God! No
Stars! NO FUCKING stars!
blankets of purple clouds
unfurled, beyond that unearthly
opaque blackness, like
skyscraper windows unframed,
hell, and ah! shit, expletives and
what-ever-have-you-not
watch this thing unseen, it's
video-logged to you head
linked directly to the brain,
layered like cake, thick
and creamy icing spread between
pink naive wrinkles and synapes,
LOOK, I only write what's behind
my iris, see? didn't you know?
I got hazel eyes, two colors unfold,
you'll be wondering,
we'll be gazing,
face to face, sight line switches
between pupils, dilating--if only there
were enough words to get it--
but there's too much--Aww~!
you know, too much too much,
I only have one line left.

there's a noise, better leave the house

She will run away and hide,

let your footsteps trace the distance
ever-wide running distance

out of sight.

to blind eyes and familiar quips,
with pupils too dilated to witness the race
seared on empty soft streets,
like some kind of coquettish mattress
drawing-

Snap

and with a snap something snaps 
like really snaps

ears bleed
into
focus reality,
some fantasies are disrupted
through the pious clouds
of denial and uneasy laughter,

ringing out into the street
at the crosswalks with the blind un-hearing,
and you lie witness to birth and death.