Thursday, November 2, 1995

Two-Dimensional Abstract Pituitary Gland

Her picture blazes
in my room
her skeleton survives
buried into my brain.

Now I bask
in that graveyard
pick a flower now and then
(they all smell like her)
and stick it through the buttonhole
of my breast pocket.

My collar is turned up
It’s so cold
my thoughts
are frozen.

My coat becomes longer
freakish looking.
Soon my beard will swallow my face.
My stride is longer every day.
I have a two-dimensional
pituitary gland.

Twisting Gargoyle Heads

Twisting gargoyle heads
leaking from walls
within souls
cry out
in consonant
calls that can
then can be traced
back to my apartment
as I wait for my telephone to ring.