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Dealey Plaza 2015*
Sirens wail like women Motorcycles gun their throats. A President’s skull cracks open Like an exploding egg. Black cars speed by like panthers Blood paints the sparrows red Cardinals chant and moan Leaves shimmer and shine. A whale spits out Oswald He has one deadly eye Walks up to me And points at the speck of him In my dark pupils. “I am innocent,” he says. A man named Ruby walks past Holding thirty pieces of silver. He tosses them into the air Oswald calls tails “Tails is death,” Ruby says “Last coin seals your fate.” The Kennedy Half Dollar blocks the sun Bounces off a cloud, wobbles Like it’s wounded Before landing face down. Ruby pulls six triggers Moves on, but takes a moment To look at Oswald’s ass Bleeding blood and shit. *Year I visited Kennedy Assassination Site |
I Am Not
I am not a not Even if I have no home And have to roam From box to bridge And sleep skull to Sidewalk. I am not a not. |
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6 9
The world has secrets Behind secrets and Puppets ruled by puppets You think the game is sixty-nine But you’re a dog, Dawg Chasing his rainbow tail. Round and round you go Until you wake too late. The catch is twenty-two Three strikes and you’re out. |
The Voyeur
Stepping out of my skin This old flabby suit-- I step into new skin and new life. The camera records Him scratching his balls And sucking young cocks. Most of us prefer Two blue eyes but For me one is enough To observe his world. And I do, like a guard Watching the condemned. He drives with piston power All night long Just pounding like a jack hammer. Asses yield with gratitude Gaped-mouth, red and juicy As Texas grapefruit. Lips slather his cock With kisses and olive oil. Legs part One in the west and one in the east. Suddenly I imagine I’m in new clothes Blue Versace coat short enough To give you a peek of my ass. Even my new red drawers get in on the act And cup my balls. Arrayed in finery, I turn on the camera Grab my cock as just as he does. We jerk, bust a nut together Then slumber with our lips in separate rooms. Summer Day
Summer rains come Catch young men shirtless Turn bodies to lacquer. I taste their sweat And am reminded of days Loving madly in the rose garden, Daring thorns to pierce my heart. |
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