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A Ghazal About Bright Stars Over a Ghost Ocean I talk to dead Nellie, asking why couldn't I have found out maybe not three seconds before fucking when the stars were bright over a ghost ocean back then the street drug felt more like street than drug but I was supposed to be two years sober so I guess feeling like road salt wasn't so bad. michelle, get out of this chair & scream what is in your stomach; it's okay says kyle, but it's because he loves me. better to be stupid & believe. strolling thru aspersion, or naked-possibly-still in bed, but I don't think so. dark, but visible silhouette is what is I have been granted, he grunted. I can't remember what I was thinking. that's probably good news considering Chris died, too & I heard not too many people went to his funeral. as though explaining the process of thinking, I explain the process of thinking to myself by writing some prose poetry & about the dragonlike self of my past. flushing skin down the toilet. it was a very small place; panic wouldn't have done at all. clenching teeth was the best I could do; I tasted powder for hours. 4.1-27.2005 A Ghazal on the Light in My Brain the light in my brain turned on like a cartoon light bulb & when it caught on fire I was pretty sure my hair was going to burn from root outwards. a secret stone is only secret before the water starts dripping. at the wind palace, a gathering of mountains has started. I set my alarm. don't be late. getting up to dance has a price if there is a bounty on your head or on your hands. tom, I will answer your letters as soon as I can. I promise. in the land of Any Thing Forgotten is a grindstone & a sumzero thickness I can only tolerate with standard six dose sleeping pills + prescriptions meds. I was pretty sure(but not positive)he hunted these treaties down. I rise early to write because in the morning is the only time the clock stops tick-tick-tocking. nearly 10 years-mostly pentatonics-something off course, of course. what were you thinking last night when we fucked? damn the records & ruins. he would "have no future if not due to you, michelle" & I laugh & I can't stop because future is not something that be contained. like in a bottle. of sambuca. obliged to tempt the tempter. weeping & gnashing of teeth, cuneiform weight, 98 lb. wedge shape to hide that all day I kept trying to think about counting. losing altitude, some sort of symphony of crashing-"CLICK"-that must have been the gun, ruining all the fun. I spat blood. I was seventeen. 4.27.5.1.2005 
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