Hallway Water {poem}

tall heavy fog

quiet language blinking from smoke and berried lips 

on the floor, bottles of bleach

terrible clapping from inside the middle school auditorium

dry prosthetic hands swinging at each other

punching plastic flesh, dull soft macabre machines

twisting their eyes

so much like hungry fish casting through the cold deep ocean water

the world asks so little for our death

but 

midnight's problem

is the back seat of a 1977 Lincoln Continental

midnight's problem

is the unopened eyeliner pen on the attic floor

midnight's problem

is the fabulous laughter coming from the dark corner of the bar

there shouldn't be

but there is

and it's leaking awful and fast 

we speak of legs and silhouettes

from angel-girl? a whisper? or a prayer?

we speak of gods and guns

killing while we pray

the world asks so little for our death

Ghosts In Wigs {poem}

all my friends are gone

I left them alone

days, weeks pass 

they call all the time

although I am so shiny now

with my ghost eyes

and my ghost hair

and my ghost hands

I wave as they drive by

but they don't see me

most of the days I just pretend

my eyeliner is still on

my nail polish hasn't chipped away

you bought a wig for me

and sunglasses

so you can still see me 

when we dance

looking out the window

I see them all go by

waving from the top

floor, but nobody stops by

anymore

when you loved me

when we danced

when the ocean was the color of you

when organs played in churches

poor Bela

would have had so much fun

picking out pumpkins together

riding in the back of my van

ordering plushie bats online

drinking the magic potions in my kitchen

but tonight the oil refinery has exploded

we escaped in your car 

blazing north on PCH taking video 

of the towering flames

laughing and singing as all the windows melted

into the ground

rising higher and higher we go

from the dust 

into the sky

that incessant 

ticking from 

god

asking us 

again 

to come home