"Get the fuck out of my house!"
a winter soft nite
in silent reading jazz
sleepy smiles,
she eases into the courage of letting
while I confound self-rage and family war history
of world order tirades
through drunk Saturday
wailing inside art dives
and cackling unheard
in a relationship that hovers above
our felt dreaming
days that drift perfectly
to reflect the pain that grows in scams
of conversed soliloquy heights,
and merging thoughtless to a secondary grin
that mumbles across the thin lips
a fan of starved off love in the dry heat
of shocked suburban 20 rooms
holding the fact of disassociated family praise
and social malaise
that ruins the worst trial
into a gross and thick tide
sucking back the curling emotional stupidity
willing a ghost
in that fearful musical host
bellowing and tapping wildly
in forgotten tracks
to the lonesome whispers
groaning through ice charted throats
lined with predictable, slow and tame followings
in time to the flood that craves our ancient fame
as distinct human age
of our purity
in knowledge and passion
to direct the generations that roam
in sick deserted lands
where the fundamental connection within our bones rests
only in the earliest formed humanity,
posed in rocks aglow with racy intellect
and the fire natural at dawn
that sits knee-high in Vietnamese lotus semen...
Calgary Winter 09’
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