|December 1998 / Volume One / Issue Three|
|The Hole in Mine
My cats lick each other's asses while mine goes
noticeably unattended and I wonder
Where are those bright men in blue
sticky necks and soiled sneakers?
Where are the urinal cakes they hid
inside their shorts?
Where are those clammy palms which stole
a glancing squeeze of my tiny ass
eyes glowered as a hawk's
slender cheek bones like
two lizards pushing up through the sand.
Are they here? Dancing through the forest
clutching leaking garbage bags did they
search the backyard shed for that elusive pair of
bloody underpants? Or did someone
blow on a dandelion send them spiraling wobbling in
pregnant helicopters over a perspiring ocean
of dirty airport bathrooms.
Did it hurt when you died? Did someone say
"HE FUCKED LITTLE BOYS" and then fall
speechless? Did they fold your curious hands
over your chest are you
airtight in titanium?
Are your eyes powder now?
Do you ever think of me? Am I a cave painting
on the walls of your skull or
a clipped-winged angel soaring into your mouth?
|Return to December 1998|