mensurable moonscape

 

 

 

i want to know everything about the sky

so I can restore or bring to a condition of

health, the sidewalks of the city.

Yes, i'm a dreamer, since it's the end

of the month and I have the tiniest money;

so I can know the latest death toll in

Bangladesh from the collapsed garment

factory because I have sympathy when

I see a rush of colors.

When the street lights up with blood

and rubble with arms flailing. There

was an elephant that painted pictures

with his trunk of abstracts and splashes

and why he wins the landscape contest

each year he enters

 

because there is happiness in knowing

what you shouldn't know. Like gold

bars in the shallows or that the most

powerful men wear pantyhose for sex.

List for us the moles in the center of

your back that have changed color, the

ones you dare not feel or see out of the

fear of melanoma.

List here the lives that frighten you:-----------------------------------.

 

Already i've given away two good seasons to this

deep, red long sleeved figure. One cool and rich,

one too hot to nod an oblique allusion to.And for this

I am rewarded thus, inkling, impestuously.

I hurt everywhere I stand. Each window a new bloodstream.

Every morning a heart to surrender.

 

I recall the cartoons of elephants stampeding

because of the close mouse, and if I could

just console him I would say to 'stay in the wild.

Get hunted down by poachers. Have little short men

carve chariots out of your tusks'. And if you do return,

do so disguised as Picaso. His tarnished Jupiter's

staring off; his crest of blue

so still beneath the sun.