Fall of the Fallen

I crunch

on the swath

of crisp cool air

that cuts

chilled and invigorating

through the swamp of my despair.

 

dust of leaves

coat my tongue

as I masticate

crow pie

long past

it’s sell-by date

 

I spit

 

breathe

the oak floating

reminders

 

humid cling of miasma

is not the haven

it self-proclaims

Under Construction

 

I built them myself

these walls

that circumscribe me

\hem my hagridden heart\

‘round me

safe and alone

bricked with mortal mortar

\angst echo chamber\

impervious to pounding pestle.

fingertips mangle

in the raucous

clawing

to breach

a bloody gap.

 

I just wish I hadn’t

scrawled such grotesque

graffiti

Chaos 101

the carpet writhes underfoot

teeming with the detritus

of a thousand lurking

cocooned selves.

what say you

gritted, behind furred teeth

in the soiled stomp of a footless sock?

do you revel in my eye roll

as befits your snakebelly

stature?

I read the note you left me

scrawled in wet mayhem

\and you giggle as I trip\

you sketch me

a blood lipped evil queen

while you hashtag

#self-destruct

napalm all your bridges.

 

I hold a flame

‘neath the lemon-juiced shreds

decipher the heartsore longing

hurled in domestic anarchy.

Leaf of Heavens’ Leavings

I dream of a leaf in vein

a tree of fitful leavings

the veins plumb blue black

with the claret of my desires.

the legacy of leavings drops

\sanguine crusted\

strewn careless aground.

in the smoted eye

of a rabid fawn

I glimpse the future

as we conspire.

 

despite the tea leaved

clouds

we scuttle upon shooting stars

and tighten

our wounded thighs

as we Picasso

purple the heavens

Think Again

so you want to poach me

turn my guts runny

on the burn of your well blown

hot air

crack my shell and

drizzle my acquiescence

over the callous crusts

of your self-satisfaction?

I decline, sir

your nauseating offer

despite mottled past

I exude no sulfurous odors

and my shell is impervious

to narcissistic fumblings

 

you think you can peel me away

denude my autonomy

as you bake puffed up

pastries

decorated with the fruits

of others’ labors

while you fancy yourself

a suave modern day Khan?

 

I am fruit

no more than fowl

and I hear the four and twenty

blackbirds singing

lo! to your base perfidy

 

you have conjured yourself king

bishop and knave

manipulating pawns

in your checkered rivalry

imagine me

accommodating accoutrement

on your phantom battlefield

 

I have fought for my place

stomach no puppet master

win your twisted game

as I deign not

to offer a response

 

Check and Mate

 

 

 

Inhumed

that t there

yep, I crossed it

those i’s

all duly dotted

sticky notes paper my desk

reminders scrawled

in inks of many colors

attention grabbing hues

I list like a realtor of to-dos

my calendar chimes

who what where and when.

I have a head for details

the memory of an elephant

and keep going and going and going

Energizer bunny

in gym shoes with my skirt

the better to keep on runnin.’

more competent than most

I know what I know

suffer few fools

speak my mind with authority

until my OCD

does a dirty tango

with principal-office fear

I was never called

and I am wearing ill-fitting plaid

eyes downcast, shuffling

catapulted through decades

to Catholic school girl

shame

Forward Ho!

it is rather herding cats

this marshalling of my forces

from among their separate spinning

manic super collider orbits

where meltdowns

\dripping uranium (or wax)\

feel the lesser mount.

they scratch and hiss

these feral festerings of the past

shabby black- tabby

pets of my much touted

witchery.

I have no bags in which to drown them

\all my rivers have run dry\

so I give frenzied chase

and they scatter as I scramble

to gather them together

these mistresses d’ fate.

I have fur balls in my coiffure

with catnip accoutrements

\harried housewifely ‘do\

and my fever is ballooning

as crises are wont to do.

but I need them on my journey

\these testaments in tattered fur\

so I cajole, corral and conquer

snarling cougar to prancing puss

and onward, shambles,

we meander

all my lives

and I