Iris
It is a filthy charge
for the igniting of our tars
papaya lips taste like
lime
salt
and chilies
parted in popular positions
they speak like a ring master artist
with imaculate purpose.
Tangled like tackle box intestines
coiled like salty snakes
I slither and burn in your ribcage fire place.
Now behind the cornea
Iris the golden godess
sends message to me
between cloud and sea
that gold winged women gilded the lily.
She says:
Fugitive colors are speak easies
it's the war in the washing machine
colors bleed,
just to prove gravity
it's all so plagerized
to perfect consistancy
when we destroyed perfect beauty
we gilded the lily.
Oh I am a catalyst on a burning stone
smoldering like children under the scope
tomorrow is a drag
a used up hag
inside the womb is a reoccuring sphinx
vaguely a virgin in this sleep walkers dream
He is a vulture like his old man
be it macomb or comely
he has plastecized arteries
pulling your skin measuring elasticity
Road kill exists twice in this writer's sheets
bleeding on white linen
and on lined paper sheets
prying open your mouth
to pull out cognitive speech
enter stage left, halcyon sleep
I hope you have more origami arteries
brother in theory.
Culture is Culture is Culture
words are rancid and unconventional
the origin of species exists in your ovaries.
We was at the city
we was at a failing economy
crippled coalitions
preach unity
speak purity
sacrifice humanity
is this life or is it reality
is it death or immortality?
Even so we share these parchment paper walls
with God's breathe and breeze
articulating eternity
each breathe celestial and cool
x-ray eyed son of christ
I live in your mind's eye
where the blistered animals
scrape junk from their rotten teeth
becoming ectoplasmic hierarchy.
they hide in the wicked trees
full of galvenized needs, that aren't me.
with specific trajectory
your perennial eyes go right through me.
I am the ashes of the ancestrial effigy
and you are the embers
liberating my spectral body from me.