Casey Has Broken the Sky

Everything is a blur, an apple-blue, howling blur.
This lasts for a few minutes,
then through the haze a crackling voice is heard,

“Casey! Are you there? I’m talking to you. Are you there?”

and then the camera, she has eyes, I’m not kidding, big round eyes,
peering, as if a snake…

…as if a snake, she is my head, peering down the length of my shattered arms, watching my hands as they become fans,
those Tokyo-type of fans, leaving trails of you in their wake,

“I thought you were real!”

and the earth, she begins to quake
as the sky…
…he begins to break

while some distance off, Casey, he points forever to the sky
wishing you or I
could see the vapor trail he left behind.

Uncertainty

Not enough calm to realize the moment
before me,

I focus on a child’s pointing finger -
we are somehow the same.

Not enough time to get the words out
correctly,

I stare down at the plate before me,
a child’s voice; she’s calling.

Not enough space to wrap my arms
around you,

I flounder, in this moment,
alone, see?

Not enough understanding of what it is
that defines me,

I let go of the futility,
knowing no certainty.

Capricorn

The handle of the misshapen knife blade bore the inscription
Capricorn, sparkled in the sun
Detective X jotted a few lines in her notepad, wondered
about numbers, toyed with strings, couldn’t quite get her head
around
time.

a body, torn apart, an obvious revolution had taken place here,
the appendages rebelled, came off, smelled, blistered now under
hot sun

X, she a woman, dwelled for a while with the dead, reported
the facts, crossed over into an alternate reality where a sea goat stood
perched on its bluish tail, smiling at her as if welcoming the hunter
into the heart of hell…

she now fell…

The handle of the misshapen knife blade bore no particular markings of interest
Detective X jotted a few lines in her notepad, wondered
about numbers, toyed with strings, couldn’t quite get her head
around
time.

16 401a

Broken strings numbers falling
upwards, unit 16 401a collapsed again
today

the tech said, “we should simply allow it to
self-destruct – it will never be missed
amongst the multitude of others from the same line.”

-static-

a bathtub bleeding red
the news – a man,
a floater,
a bowl of tomato soup,
a wrist opened up just for you

-fade to Jane in a slow window frame-

put this moment in a jar and
remember to let it loose when
the days become too much for you.

Shallow vista

Nothing, an armchair frown reflects in the video screen the sad frame from which some flesh hangs nothing this lack of movement feels like freedom like a warm coat on a dripping day raining away like cracked leather in a dirty El Camino where i cut flesh into various shapes reminding me of those who have forgotten how to express love i want you all to suffer as if you could perceive reality from my vantage point (a shallow vista of sorts) - with eyes wide open to the nothing that you are.