Junkie Drawn and French-Quartered

Like a derailed streetcar
         named demand
               the misinformative years
     of an unhappy youth

          that lost its marbles
   and came unglued with airplane cement
then jagged window pane -
must now chase the dragon,

            the force of habit
            hopelessly devoted to the
united colors of benzedrine.
 

Malignant

In these bastard
arms I clutch
you like a chore -
         your beauty
now foreign as
my cravings.

On this make-
                    shift bed I
warm you like cold
porridge
as we come the innocent,
deadened
                   by the touch
         of truant
affection and rancor
                        by the
       truckful.

          Imperfect strangers
hip-weaved at wrong angles
              and vacillating

               so
malignant together.
 

Aurora Metropolis

Tonight
          a halogen umbrella
stains the handsome sky
                    and clouds dangle
unripened
on the haze
         of aurora metropolis.

                    Frowning night
made incendiary
                  from the glint and glimmer
             of subtopian splendor
       ignites projects
slouching below
malignant and weeping -
                                 marmalized
in a jerrican of optimism.

Somewhere
flickering in the safe distance
the white highlands majestic
                                   and isolate -
unbalanced on livid rock,
         a melancholy herd
slumbers in the happy rut they've dug -
though spent candles
                       burnt at both ends
                       just wax ineloquently.

Tonight
        I hear
        the torch song of the borough
awaken the mutual load of moans
                  where unsoothing noises
whine gentle into
that good night.
 

Crash

Cowering in a cold corner
     with my one good eye
                         on the side of my face
I contemplate the familiar creature
             advancing.

          Grandiose jaw bones
booming decibels of unknown cant
                                               bare it
            the shadow engulfs me.

                   I take to flight
             and impress the landing
clutching the bannister
          - soiled trousers
                       cling to blemished ankles,
tiny fingers fall gripless and
                               I am air
                                          born again.

                         One day
                                    they will discover
the wreckage
               and send investigators
        to pull me blue
        into
        the black box.

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