~the brilliant machine~

THE BRILLIANT MACHINE

blowing grease with an air-gun
staple-tacking the seams of this box 
cranes east west south
my derision, metal in motion

strapping burnt plastic
snapping the metal band
what do you call this?
pings with hammer, sparing nicks

angles, black paint
gun at a distance
bad bad wrists
and ankles

trivia, oh trolley-slag, 
details belie you
lover never a fighter
arms testament to lift and repetition

hot metal, strong back
thighs sped forward
spirals like razors
cutting through nail-beds

smoke the doldrums for
honesty in quick syllables
what is a man without balls,
hot lips, and presence?

the dragon red
hovering beyond us
arms-length and will awaiting
the song of liberation

my meditation
this lazy sun busting through clouds
the mindless slogging
fucking money

you know what violence is?
priss subjugation 
against the elation of letting love rule.
there are wings hidden in our backs

grace and steel shoes slide
along a heartstring's bass strum
there are no floors, only fingerprints
and the humming of hours gone

when the sun goes down alone
vice is forgotten in the night wind
your lover's voice 
on the phone

held fast in the balance
of gravity and momentum
overcoming inanimate objects
and the unknown

i green an aluminum can
mainline coffee in great gulps to breathe, shimmy, 
and breach waves of streets 
to receive

the future unfolding like a soft letter
an alphabet falling
an endless scroll
unwinding

gaskets round my wrists
the earth element magnet flipped over
well who am I to want more
when this is all a dream?

this ‘morrow will find me
eating the opposite of stress
…a soft landing for heaviness

auto-work braced in a box 
motor-sped down the freeway
18 wheels hit the tarmac
whatever happened to revolution?

strong hearts 
feeding strong minds
in strong bodies…
small hands turning the face of time

paint stripped,
weather-worn,
bolts rusted.

a belly rejecting water in dim sunlight
vomits ash into an empty sink
eyes leak like green grease in the seams…
just show up and work.

a shipment manifest
numbers turned over on a screen
light refracted, safety plastic
the mass and gravity of light

let me tell you something

now that we're alone 

my psyche 

she done broke

her last bone

the truth won't 

lift what is flown

so i hold it

in my hands

make it smoke

make it sweat

make it burn

make it bleed

my body…

the brilliant machine.