Before I die I
Would like to see Dr. Oz
And punch his dumb face
Before I die I
Would like to see Dr. Oz
And punch his dumb face
John Michell
December 25, 1724 – April 21, 1793
The moon also falls
But what of light?
Late night candlelight treatises
Feverish flailing quills
Spilled ink
And finally,
Knowledge that
The light also falls
A darkness so immense
That our gaze can’t turn away
Despite the overwhelming
Vision of the deep
Nothing at the center
They screamed their conclusions
Of demonic illusions
And made sure they ousted
All those who had doubted
Despite the reports
They could never retort
An old man, laid out stright
Who only desired more weight
Air is collapsing
Reaching its destination
And it means nothing
We could make America great again
When unregulated medicine
Was non-addictive heroin
And ice picks behind the eyes
We could make America great again
When men were men
Who punched in every day
And died on the clock
We could make America great again
When we didn’t humanize the heathen
The bumps on the skulls or look of their clothes
Let us know we were born better
We could make America great again
When we could accuse them
Of wanting something for nothing,
That we earned, somehow, just by being Amercian
The sun
The sky
Mrs. Troffea’s brow beads sweat under her coif
A twitch
A move
Mrs. Troffea’s hand moves to wipe her face
A trance
A kick
Mrs. Troffea’s feet propel her through the streets
A stillness in the town is interrupted
The frenetic haze of Mrs. Troffea’s limbs
Calls attention to itself
Her face as unmoving
Unchanged
As the sun in the sky
Mrs. Troffea is oil in water
A transfixing disturbance
The moon’s silence shines down
And leather-clad feet
Scrape rocks into earth
Punctuating the former silence
Mrs. Troffea is oil in water
Weighing down wet skin
Attracting those alike
With slipping movement
Her face is suffering
While her body celebrates
The sun
The sky
Mrs. Troffea’s body stumbles
While continuing costs coordination
While her blood pools in her shoes,
Piss and shit cake into the streets
Uncoordinated bodies
Bounce back and forth
Breathless gasps
Are heard under the silent moon
Mrs. Troffea
Opens her mouth
Like a fish
Inhale
Feet swelling
Trapped in leather
Ballooned with blood
Glassy eyes
Closing lids
Her knees collapse
Feet kick into the dirt
The piss, the shit,
Under the sun,
Under the sky
Mrs. Troffea
Open mouth
Sharp inhale
Taste dirt
Gritty tongue
Forced spit
A twitch
Sudden exhale
Dust cloud
Lungs rattle
The moon looks
Mrs. Troffea
A foot
Her face
Stumbling knee
In ribs
Eyes wide
Black ring
The sun
The sky
untethered to reality, I let go and float
Jet streams jostle the loose thinking
Levitating lessens reliance, encourage sinking
Repetitive rhetoric rustles until hectic
Panicked dendrites fence the mind, electric
Breathless, a soft shock settles in
the metronome of bone as neurons pulse in time to the fluid music of anxiety,
a sharp stalactite song, loud enough that ![]()
The cave of the mind crumbles, threatening to bury me alive
The rushing crush ruptures the rusty tracks
Mine cart neurons stay stationary and cracked
Synapses and flashes pop their electrical static
Automatic motions flailing forward, frantic
I guess
You can be safe
In knowing that you won’t
Ever have to care about me
Dying
An urgent frenzied glance
asking “Why” to the world
bespeaks the fear
that fingers
pressing through torso
doesn’t.
Waving hair
sets a course for the
rending of limbs
the gnashing of teeth
as sustenance
as mourning.
Of course
the head went first
to spare Saturn
the screaming
of his son.
2.
Together we learn how trust is just chemicals
and a virgin in the sky is full of darkness
Robots land on astroids
and on Titan
Even our most ambitious endeavors
are still about
just leaving Earth.
I must be lucky.
The tache noir
gives way to holes as dark
as the virgin from the stars.
You writhe and bounce,
hoping there is life in the seas of Titan.
You imagine how it smells
when it leaks out.
The pulsing quickens
as your imagination goes wild.
After all,
who doesn’t want to devour new worlds?
My ancestors,
stumbling, ravenous tetrapods,
climbed from the pits to devour the new worlds
it found on land.
Your ancestors,
stumbling, ravenous colonialists,
sailed from the isles to devour the new worlds
it found in the ocean.
My ancestors,
stumbling, ravenous adherents to tradition
walked down the road to devour the new worlds
it founds in the minds of neighbors.
Our ancestors fed.
Just like we feed.
3.
For the first time, I hear a noise that isn’t your squelching
your yelling
your violent din.
They’ve finally come for the money.
9.
The hand cannot erase
and no one knew.