taking cover
as Joyceian passions mingle
with those thrust by Bataille
we wrap each other
in a Shakespearean embrace
flickering highlights
and salmon-colored tapestries
waving reversible in my breeze
I make a biblical sacrifice
of breath
amid fresh air
and hounded hearts
thudding
in a kaleidoscopic rhythm
I’m a salamander
strolling along
your slick wall
an infinite column of flavors
leading all the way down
to the place we started from
in dark and humid club corners
in parking lots forests and trains
in strange and familiar bedrooms
I’m gonna be your man dog
watercooler porn star collective
all wrapped up in a hot wet BANG
captain of closed captions
duke of drama dialogue
and throbbing diacritics
you’re thunder over my rain
that I’m sending into your plain
you’re the conductor of my nonstop bullet train
I’m almost at a loss that you stand to gain
we’re rocketing
from Montreal to Monterey to the moon and back
a nitro-boosted Winnebago of love baby
overtaking percentages rates and jams
giving rise to earthquakes supernovas and future plans
I’m a weapon of mass construction
and you’re Ground Zero baby
this is not a test this is not a drill
this is not code green yellow or orange
this is Judgement Day baby
I’m talking code red god-slapping lip-smacking
Armageddon Books of Revelation and Genesis baby
because in the beginning
there was us
and in the beginning
there will always be us
in the beginning
there is us
and our words and ways
are good enough
to keep it going
until we’re lying back
stuck
to the ceiling
our souls dangling
from the ceiling
and the shiver
in your whisper
is a stony
tribute
in stumbling breaths
along the gaps
between my words
stretched
and compressed into address
I declare that I am
sedated
in the consequences
of our combined efforts
to rediscover and redefine love
I am high
on our sweat and juices
as our scents combine
in the clean coniferous-bloated air
your compendious response
is clearest resonance:
“Now that’s
what I call
a fuck…”
RASH II 