Take Me

Your moth-cloud dreams in,
we went up like soot,
soaked in gasoline.
Yesterday’s thick ejaculation
mixed with a bundle of
memories,
take me,
tell me!

Every day, the body gives up the ghost,
sui juris. Take me!
White purse.
Sweet essence under strange sheets.
Your cotton terrorizes me.
I wrap long, and split,
I’m weak,
I’m weak.

One day grows under soil,
feeding on a seed.
Where the Earth wants to plants us,
we harvest what we reap…

and clouds speak in tongue,
a simple, little speech.
I know I’ve begged before,
but take me.
Take me!!

I Will, I Will Do Now

My head, my long head burns
in fury as my teeth expand. I can taste gun powder.
It is only what I knew,
not what I begin to know now.

I can become a tomato, only when
I become a tomato.
I am not whole, or ripe,
or sweet, red flesh,
until then.

I will only be a youthful green seed, now.

And what will I do with myself?
I have let fat, green worms slither
around my precious skin.
I have laid root in rocky, dry soil.
I have hidden my aching vines from
sunlight,
and that was all then.

Now, my face pulsates as I grind
my teeth on old leather,
fighting expansion,
embracing the tension,

and I will, I will do with my sweet,
ripe fruit what I know now.

Watermelon Seeds

I have never felt you, but I saw your beady blue
transparency in the hand of a stranger.
She drained you and the mucous,
she strained you just to have you,

and I do not know you but I feel you.
And I wonder if you are the same,
or if you are even you,

and in this mood I am careful, and thick.

I dreamed about curious habits and
watermelon seeds; slick, black beginnings
buried deep in moist protein.
I woke up, choking on raw meat, trying
to swallow your well-being.

And I have not held you, but every day
I feed you,
and water you
and let you grow,

because, although I do not know you,
I want you.