Sunday, April 7, 2013


Baby Oscillator

He palms his eyes to stale bread, openings and switches he never knew about
Compass points to the bottom of the table
Old oats and sauerkraut
(pills crushed in a chapstick)
Pin down the map, blown funnel clouds loom
Knitting diapers in the crawling stench
Then I went I bought I took I cooked slumping windows, defenestration defense
Not in this bombastic light
Baffled cops half dead from coffee cake
Warning bells sing with a barbershop quartet,
corset, cornet, billing prizes on a homemade crown
Release the crows for Stella, love mixed with shit
Patchcords across my Moiré patterns
Brown sky, my marrow plundered by haystacks
Broken farts, forgotten pumpkins, pancake stare,
rubber pictures quiver on the walls
Classic dungeon flambeaux
The daily age staggers past
what? Time's drunk on power
while we're ground to atoms
hollering in the void

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