window pane

your starling

dressed in black     jumps off the heavy wall

it doesn't bother to open its

wings    surrounded by the buzz of

wasp and termite     Im the only one that watches

her fall

Notes by the window

my hands slowed with chill
I won't reach for the heater tho
I'll get sick maybe,
my fingers are numb,

rain is imperceptible in the night
stopped only by my window
a ledge,

water blurs the world
gives birth to it,

Yesterday I wished it would rain,
now I stare at it strangely,
I am seeing into myself,

this was not what I meant,
when I said it,
I am too conscious of my wish
too wrapped up in my own
petty thoughts, a fracture of
the essential mind, an aberration,

It will continue,
the night, storm, winter, spring
it will continue with me
or without me,
as me,
or because of me,

I am silent,

in the near lane heading north
a car turns left without signalling
there's no traffic,

what came before was a fantasy.

Ana

Slog through this
poorly paced shit and you'll
run aground on the anagram
generator mechs that patrol
the grammar roads of legitimacy--
like legitimate literature pours out
the academic assholes, like always
clenching tight, ya--
follow the red ambulance
down the street with those eyes
reading further for the answers
mechanically separated dark meat,
light meat, parts and pieces, hell
it's all over hieroglyphs on the
telling walls--they're protected
electronically
from our fingerprints--luckily--

Last thing I want is for them
to be scared.

No I won't I call it whatever I like, whenever I want (left alone)

Cars at my window
collide like ocean and stars
in the dreary night heading east toward
the sun, I'm hanging my head
above the aerosol can
taking in the scent,
getting high
getting wet
fusing with the consciousness
stream on the yellow line
on the white line, man,
I can't see the tears from
my balcony, they've all but dried,
I can't catch a glimpse
of the shore.

Just a second and I'll finish that sentence

     a dozen roads
end in straight lines
headed east
the pentagon is a five-
sided wall of counter-
perceptive cement piled high
on top of whirling heads--ruby red grapefruit
isn't a faultless circle on
the periphery--but it can be made
to seem natural if you'd like
it--so cover up with the sandbox
sand, it comes home from
hospitals too--on special,
crimson special and the prescient
silence--I can't see Jeff
but I hear'em going south
disguised, disgruntled
ready to shift--to be shipped
to the next locale--the further
on down the line bubble--probably up
past all those stick white graves
and the BOMB--close to that enemy border--
charred gray and towering
ruins--eating everything BOMB
getting close BOMB to my afterthought
when we're gone gone and I'm
a set of teeth for the dental records
screaming I was right I was right
I was
Right
I was right!