my mouth of antique copper

[thevisiblecat]

there's something missing.
it's a great thing.

i'd be happy to discuss this
in person.

the smiling sea
a captive voice

an umbrella of remote
time and rhythm

i sit at the helm
of a driveway
smoking
with a dog
perched
waiting
for the full moon
to arrive

i do

in the street
a long haired gypsy
rattles her trash can

in the fridge
i keep a can of moon dirt

stirring it with a bent spur
i moan the moan of a lost tadpole

each morning i take a spoonful
of dahlia powder
and close my eyes

i drop four daggers
of blood into my eye

brush my teeth
shave
and call it a truce

just so i can count the thousand roots
of another mob

i see elevators
and punched out lights

i take a razor from the shelf
to cut and cut dark spangles
into half-written crowns

i cut out the death
and tape it to a mirror
like a slice of bacon

each one deserves an apology
each one a shrugged blade of lead

i'm sorry to see you go
but i'm building an instead
(a hundred equal faces
that hardly change)

a diffused light wrapped at your waist
snaps photos of the world's longest bed frame

google all you want
you'll never find a paycheck
in the cricket's robe

i can't tell you how long the last cigarette is
or who holds the reins of the dead rider
slumped in the glow of his last glimpse
or the insomnia of the pistol

the frame of the mad girl slumps into a joke
about herself
only to be injured by her shadow

she doesn't want to be held
she wants a hammock
and friends
for sharp midnights
with healing property

it seems i am always complaining
but its just my cloud that's heavy

all these afternoon minnows
rusting in the grey arm of the wind

the legend kid
sketching the frame of a river
with a silver stone
scoops up a handful of pennies
at the same old show

i gotta find something else

i'm having a hard time here

maybe i gotta hit the brakes

maybe i gotta
stop treading
your water