July 2006/Volume Seven/Issue Two
Ray Brown
sonnets of destruction

The plague is over, and under a blanket for the curse                             
a mad pin doll fallen, grasping into suspension
guts with orchestrated colors, coming from a vagina
insides on the floor in red tints across the linoleum

shanghai nights, glory mornings, faded soup cans,
strangers and cadmium moving on a subway car between lines
a house, a lawn, a withered cross, an intrusion of reality
into the ether of porn stars and pro wrestlers

a spy in the house of cement walkin dawn
a half-way hotel, circa nineteen thirty three
a loose oasis floating in concord, flashes broken wings

a burnt crown for transient saint solutions, a scattered
exercise, a fountain of youth cut-up, giving the impression
of futility; a righteous non-entity

surrounded by drooping intersecting images – an ambulance
embracing the rough exterior of a brick wall.


Touching the foot of the bed, i got on my knees
and sought solace, comfort at the criminal impasse
drinking beer in the foggy night as black hands
stretched across firm meadows and a junkyard of butterflies

white faded wood, splintered facade, with people shifting
in and out of abandoned door – clenched fists in constructed
angles – cracked arms, the skeleton crawls to safety reaching 
for his large hat, brown melancholy eyes

sinister translucent smoke sleeping in tunnels of hospital
playing organs, watching my fingers roll across each other
trying to find the finger of direct fascist manipulation

flames from flickering lips look at you, while an exquisite corpse flips
his forked tongue  - i quit -  i turn myself off - i will rent a new tuxedo
with shiny buttons - i will turn intestinal and gain authority from your rotten forms

out of the swamp, tender thoughts of the womb napping in a rusty automobile
the future turbine torture, rearview mirror thorns, sprouting nocturnal weeds.


Soggy ashes, moaning wails, suffocating cats
bird of youth underneath the invisible quilt
splashed against, a boy on knees, in front of house
cadillac molecules sobbing

three firemen and one woman hysterical
red black coal hiding a blue figure of a father
laughing through a fragmented window, saving the day
saving the dynamite memories, shot against a blank wall

RED YELLOW DEATH was upon him, hissing words
“stomach bleeding, white ulcers eating green oozing snails
from a swollen cloud, my brethren, and its only better from here on in”

it ate a fathers finger, and illuminated a mothers tear
a flame of anarchy -- a smoldering alien
devouring the frozen screaming architects of

“the way to despair, flicker away, detachment, aloofness
forensic sun love, broken skyscrapers swaying”