Small Poems

GOOD MONKEY EAT RITUAL
Again
Silence preserves the air,
in absence, a square
the mall, kids, television
Silence sharing space
while our teeth clatter
silverware with
lunch at 5, dinner at 8
Staring,
The Biggest Mistake:
would be romantic if
I lit a candle
or maybe more
than echo


UNTITLED
There is blood running from his nose
he is a painting
self-analysis
leading self-loathing
to water, it drinks in sickening gulps

There is a stranger hanging from the cross
his frown is painfully reassuring
surely he suffers for me
I know him well for it

Your smile cannot be believed

it's teeth are precious
they resemble candies

The soul: a product that will never be created
Surely it would've been well marketed
we all bought in credit-card swiping fury
credit to money
as soul to body

Love, perhaps the most marketable product
but they refuse service
these thick-lipped market magicians
who so enjoy their imitations
as to herald them to be the imitated
as I watch it drip
Full, Pregnant, wings unfurled
from precious, candied lips

RISING
It's the
surface feel the texture
expanding
folding breathing

present

out of context
-----focus-----

present

on reset release

at last

forever---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

something

will find itself

wait precussive, grid-like moments

while it eats itself

alive

it is more alive

than it's ever been

between your precussive, grid-like teeth