my library has 13 books

1.

i wrote you a letter overseas
though i'm afraid it will arrive too late;

see, i'm from out west, and it's been awhile
since i've seen eyes as green as yours,

absinthe seafoam crashing up & back, up & back

pinch me once if i'm dreaming, break my menagerie heart 
with the fender of your cream nickel coupe, 
roaring a dozen suns

2.

i went out to california when i was twelve,
it was a roller coaster but i stayed on my feet,

we were the lotus kids, playing russian roulette 
with speedballs under interstate overpasses,

crawling to the moon and back on our hands & knees,

breeding creation from empty pill bottles
& mirrored nightstands,

i'll show my scars like stories

3.

i found myself talking to a tree, it didn't say much
but for fifty cents & a nail he'll tell you a story

unless

4.

there is a tree by your house, the knothole on the south side 
a bird's nest of innocence & time & wealth,

you're the kind of warmth that tickles your shoulders 
in burning buildings, watching the flames from afar,

i know you're not as bad as they all say you are, 
there's a rabid dog in everyone and a loaded shotgun
in our hands,

wisdom comes in chewing gum packets, wrigley's double mint,
ghosts included--

i'm little but i'm old, you told me
and i never questioned you again

5.

my birth is the one mistake i'm trying hardest to fix;

the birds, the birds ate my face, jawline dangling by sinew,
molars smooth & rounded like tombstones on a fleshy hillside,

i jumped, i jumped from the house i had set aflame, jumped into
disaster with both feet

it was the worst thing i could think of doing then

6.

the church bells won't stop ringing, ringing for me
in the morning, at noontime, when dusk arrives in a star
-speckled chariot,

i am laying on a bed of pine needles, sweet like the spanish soil
of our sovereign grandfathers,

rabbits & hares in burrows deep in the woods, 
lovely & dark 'til the ground shook no more

7.

who am i? i am mad, we all are;

yesterday was a schoolgirl in summer's clothes, romping with
dreamers at teatime, 

she drank the strong stuff, ate the pastries,
grew big in the head, popped like a balloon and woke up
in a tire swing;

tomorrow is curious

8.

as it turns out, lot's wife was human after all
(so it goes)

more or less time exists eternally, unstuck moonscapes in parallax 
continuums, 

simultaneous optometry shops we've all seen before

9.

there is a war going on, they will kill us if we let them,

god is a bumbling fool, making millions on reality television,

selling chocolate covered cotton balls to white sheep soldiers
like contagious insanity

10.

the farm animals are revolting, pigs in red & mules in blue,

wearing liberty on their ironed shirtsleeves like a bunch of ribbons,

all are equal, some more than others

11.

the path to paradise begins underground, i've been there:

dug a hole, salvation caking like primrose under my fingernails,

met eternal darkness with ironclad intentions, lucifer's icy stare
six six six times over across the frozen brook,

we came outside and saw the stars

12.

on rainy afternoons i go to talk with goliaths,
for they do not frighten me and say much more than the trees,

what he had to offer were words, so i sat down
and listened for a while,

opened up my mind like a dusty old book, 
fingered through the pages and started reading

13.

hung by a rope from the widow's walk of a victorian lighthouse,
pneumatic sighs of camera flashes & newlyweds on soma holiday,

i ate wicked civilization, flagellated submission into 
my featherweight bones, 

primitive pools of sapphire, pristine in the unbleached skyglow;

bathe me in sin, that fascinating horror of juniper petals,
plump incarnations writhing like a knotted snake
at my rebellious flesh,

from the fold in my neck i hung in still reality, 
unhurried compass needle spinning ever so slightly,

i was tired, the evening horizon was buzzing:

o' foul yesterday, brave beauteous tomorrow!
(tomorrow that has such fire in it)

The End

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