Knocking


medicated ambivalance billowing away in cloudbursts of septic smoke
parting paper lips intruding upon a friendly drink and somehow I
knew she’d be here close yet lightyears away gutted gothic glorious
in jilted bravado and eyes few have seen like me pulling crimson
from my skin speaking strangely of things I could apparently never
understand with youthful exuberance and an addicted tongue licking
the air like sound looking for a place to land a voice to speak
before it leaves needing nicotine need is a wicked thing bloody
and crusted on a rotting cross dressed for success in the proverbial
little black dress bruises and Pinocchio beauty bunchy bad broken
skin and that same air of bravado drinking alone is a dangerous
undertaking for a downhome drama queen music intense and interesting
in the darkness of my heart punctured and gushing godawful guilt
and she’s laughing at me with an aftertaste of something sultry
teasing me and it can only end badly tears and heartache and something
edgy between maternal and sexual needs and there it is again need
a traumatic thing pages and pages of surrealistic insanity from
destructive clarity I can find places in between a ghastly memory
of violation and contamination from a force separate from me
drink it down superfluous sound sharing a bar while snakeskin falls
from some kind of stoner stalker silver shining on a lost cigarette
downing double entendres like a dubious dream drinking and
drinking and drinking and she’s still here my gracious girl scented
with grass and gregariousness faked like a good little ghost so much
more than a transient transformation allows one more turns into two
and the circle turns towards taunting covering a convoluted craving
a chrysalis of craving complicated anything how shall I make it
home tonight a faded façade of fictional fallacy if I could conjure
a conglomeration of curdled cream severe syllables from a
strangled intelligence and a saddened state maybe then I could manage
to breathe






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