June 20, 2012
emergency ghosts on the pier
assume their intentions are clear
	but no one can stare
	at the stampede of air
as it occupies bravado's fear


loafing on passionless art
is like drafting a numberless chart
	you can't comprehend
	and so you descend
to boiling a prisoner's heart


jazz and tomatoes are new
to the hungry and blasphemous few
	who ride through Chicagos
	on sorry tomorrows
listening coldly to you


worry and foibles are brave
in the vacuous drama you crave
	you lie with the bores
	in a culture of whores
where vultures most capably rave


the table is mostly unset
for a supper of empty regret
	forks rise and fall
	knives cut and crawl
as a family considers its debt


switching from gravy to grease
i flush my perceptions of peace
	these mountains seem new
	as they swallow you
and God stumbles out of your face


drawing room games are the joy
among girls who think they're a boy
	the cat is a clown
	the sane youngsters drown
in a kingdom with only one toy