Saturday, April 04, 2009

Carlito the lair of the white worm ken russell etc

the air itself a shock of innate toxicology in which
he reels big-bearded announcing my arrival my name
several times to someone unseen it takes maybe
a minute for my respiration to adjust to the sheer layering
of filth that abides here and is to be lain long in
as in an opium den a stinking Roman feast reclined
for this all-consumption look here is a picture
of my grandfather he was a U-Boat look now here
is my cat now dead that I have hung upon the wall
now here are the dead cans that once spoke and now
are full of pellet holes such is my accuracy at 5 0 clock
a new phase will begin and we will drink in its honour
O why did you not bring me your firstborn son that I might
anoint him here next time then man it is so good to see
you I had thought you were no longer my friend here
feel my confederate cap once we were confederates
for instance we share memories we have kissed we have
seen your floor slick with blood after you taught
that guy a lesson these things are not easy now they reel
as unbalanced as a cart on a steep slope pulled up/down
by significant bulls while the sun starts and starts again
yes I miss you but can't return to that dead caldera
in which we frolicked so long all ten years of afternoon
in which picon you now lie anointed ready for what is
already death unacknowledged faintly acting the last
rites of human constitution as though persistence itself
the inability to shut up look here listen to the strength
in my voice from the ashes from the wasted muscle
was now a victory of some kind against the ash the ice
bring him why don't you bring him you say curling
your lip in your lumberjack shirt your confederate cap
your beard your vodka your afternoon TV your half love
I can't bring him ever I love you but I can't and I can't
infect myself further with what you've got

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