Other Lives

When you speak
About the girl you used to know
in her lingering hot bodied form
Have some respect for the dead

When you are through
With licking salt off your skin
And have eaten enough flesh
That now you believe
You are the keeper

You will find yourself
With hands pushed out
blindness leading
a sonogramed grid
of a voice’s echo

In this confused bloodless vessel
the belief is:
you have gathered enough scraps
for a full meal

If every kiss
was you with your tongue
carving out more meat

And every lie
Was second-hand armor
against your familiar ally

You’ll have enough skin
and hair
And the perfect amount of moles,
cuts, bruises, scars
To make a flesh model
Of your former love

You don’t know this,
but your new fantasm
Is a little worker bee

With enough rage
And angst
Together you build a meat dress
That she might wear
for special occasions

There is my pet under water

There is my pet under water
Swimming not permitted

My soul is only half wet
The rest long limbs
Hips used to balls of feet pressing
hard and steady

The shallow end is black
And rich with blood
That I expelled
During my last visit

I’ve got quite the trick now
I don’t try to catch the bastard

I just shake my head
And coo
Now not as nicely

They told me
Only drowned souls
ever surface

Out to shore they bring them
Their lungless bodies heaving
A blue face staring at me
In recognition

There is my pet
Going downstream
Instead of upstream
Catching water
In the ears

One shake and the world
is the-what? The oyster?
Two shakes
And the season of mermaids
is alive

I watch several
Rip off sanguine limbs
One by one
Until the water is the healer
A holy spring
Made of the sweetest little boy

I’ll listen to the sound
Of the drift and slap
Eternal recall standing still

There is my pet
Turned to myth
Only hooked once
Briefly