come on in and take off yr skin and rattle around in yr bones # 4

OBJECTIVE: HER SANCTUARY

combat jazz shrapnel bandage

oh, wreckage of the chapter of heaven; this evening's

absurdly contemporary

leit motiv

I AM A BRIGHT, BUOYANT WILDFIRE

in a raindrop—

winter    snow      benches              lamppost          trees

collapsed lung

[the nurse who had come along

to treat the sufferers

went berserk;] “now, why wd i say this to you?”

gorgeous, heartsick; lullabies

for the ghosts

w/in...it’s the off-the-cuff languor

of a mercurial-warm sweater

around 2300

“what a wonderful world at last i am free,”

she’ll whisper

how abrupt the clarity

unrequited passion on the cusp of my thirties

i want a bourbon

as strong as an ordnance fire...