Five Years Gone

Slide Show

  the world shaded in grey, black, white,

  my own memories washed clean of the blood,

  puddles of turpentine drawing blanks in my head.

  what’s left plays like a slide show

  single frames without context, blurring

  together and hard to determine. is that me

  throwing the boy down on the pavement?

  am I the one being thrown?

  the ravenous packs of pre-teens roaming

  through small town wilds, pecking their order

  out on the keyboards of the administration

  I’m trying to put together the descriptions

  of acts forgotten, misremembered, mistaken

  but still permanently recorded.

  paperwork never lies, never forgets, can only

  be misfiled and forgotten. let me forget.

  there’s nothing to remember, nothing to watch

  and film burns so well, red and gold instead

  memories taking color at last.

  Tarot

  Don’t ask questions

  you won’t hear the

  answers to.

  Am I who I think I am?

  The Devil, reversed.

  But a card can’t tell you

  what to do about it.

  Toss them behind you

  one at a time,

  walking,

  and they will tell you

  where you are going.

  Ace

  Around the world

  Where the king sits low

  If the cards run to favor

  Fickle Jack,

  You lie so low

  Even your Suicide King

  Climbs over your body

  In hope of getting somewhere

  Will you define

  What you divine

  In the lays of the queens

  And their masters?

  Became

  Crimson scales and

  bloody claws digging

  into his head.

  The world is your

  film set and the customers,

  your players and Francis,

  poor Francis is your understudy

  and your manager, your metaphoric prima-donna.

  Bathe in red spotlight,

  rip down the scenery.

  Nothing is enough. Is it

  the boy’s Becoming you worry about

  or your own, lowering you

  to a humanity you despise?

  Defibrillation

  your skin sharp

  sparking blue and green

  lightning in your

  eyes, hands

  skies

  a glance

  minor strike

  my limbs not working

  clear

  a heartbeat

  restored, magnetic

  pressing against you

  electricity renewed

  contact with you

  phones, wires

  fingertips

  all conducting that

  symphonic, subatomic

  the charge fading

  touch me again

  wind me up

  before you send me

  on my way

  Fur

  my bones are broken

  dozens of times, healed

  at inhuman angles

  I put my fur coat away

  for the summer, for your sun

  fighting against

  star-spangled snow

  and frozen moonlight

  unmoving, unhealing

  an adolescent totem

  carved in wood

  kept among the marble

  without knowing why

  and burning still

  Five Years Ago

  All the old things burn.

  They whisper curses and wiring,

  children with matches,

  isn’t it a shame

  it’s reduced to ash-scarred

  bricks. From the latest scene

  smoke still rises, a canary

  sings behind scorched windows.

  Across the street I watch

  them whisper

  it’s the times,

  the terrorists, the communists.

  I smile very thin

  and I strike my match.

  Lucia

  you wore red

  and I knew you hated me

  even as I saw you

  a curve of hips,

  flash of pale skin

  beneath the corset’s straps

  you walked to your own funeral

  laughed like ice

  and held your knife

  like you’d held me

  you wore white

  and the stains are all my fault

  smoke and copper

  ozone and regret

  your legs bare and still pale

  eyes so open

  and I could only

  love you more