Night Writing 11
NOTE: These don’t have titles, but they’re all separate entities, not sections in a single work.
I.
My guitar sounds not unlike a broken brake
that can’t let go
because it’s not a guitar
it’s a piece of wood
that communes with electricity
And why does it do like that
when my gut is empty
can’t it find any real players
with salamander brains
and old faces?
I’ve found a candle to light
that works just as well
I’ve found a time of day
when all stores are empty
And I still dream, though
in clouds, and of clouds
II.
This last week has been
motivational and quick
without a memory
So, I reorganized my books
1 : 2 : 1
They aren’t testing the same
in this market yet
so every prescription written
is a dollar lost
You could stand on marble
and I would go over
your diary and add
my suggestions
But a man crazy as Blake
deserves a taller hat
and a weaker chin
It’s a shame to die
middle aged
III.
I need a GPS device that works
on every continent If I go
A stitched line along my side
to keep the birds afraid If I go
A mask with holes to breathe
through, a man to cut my hair
back, a line to cast my wire
with, If I go
All the bags in this room
hold components and regalia
Pictures of young women
peppered roses of inferno
I want to take my rats
away from here If I go
IV.
what my servant said
curled in her wheat
was that I was a fool
and I said alright
but I was only a fool
and every time I swept
the walk and salted
all the doors, I smiled
like a shameful bore
what she said made
me weak and look strong
she clamped on to me
and would not let go
until I was at the bottom
of the wax !
V.
on my desk
folded and stacked:
‘no more fingernails’
On her neck my hand
just rests
By my roof
a cloud descends
On my dresser
a clock is stopped
‘no more stubble chins’
And what to do with these razors
past their orders
Over the recommended dosage
Searching for a stack of dollars
no more haircut small talk
just straight lines