torchalarm
he went gingerly
to bed
after the light there is
no more pain; the flash
is so strong that any leftovers
would be missed by the blindness
it's starting to itch where
my wings would've grown
i followed him into heaven
and dragged him down into hell
he quite liked it and felt nice
with all the imperfect souls
who slipped and chipped their fingernails
at the edge of the cliff
he understood those who
had been abandoned by the rope
that was supposed to have saved them
but instead was covered with wax
and made them lose grip
the moving target was
difficult to catch but
the reward spoke bundles
i buckled him in my
angel cutter and dissected
the shit out of him
i folded him into a key
and tucked him into
my secret fifth pocket
to protect him from
bodies of freaks with
noose bruises
i'm not dead yet but i'd sure like to feel it
The 2River View, 3_1 (Fall 1998)