guttermouth

your hyperbolic words--
like wraiths interred--
scratch, scratch at my neural pathways:

i've never had to eat my own,
but with your phrases of absolutes
comes a feast:
nevers, and
forevers, and
hate and love
and Hell and Heaven--

a feast 'pon which you will surely choke.

your non-commital rhetoric
burns like cochlear poison;
a cancer, a sickness, a languid hellfire

with ev'ry parting of your putrescent lips.
with ev'ry word comes boiling bile:
hot, smelly, self-assuring.
death of mind and heart alike.

i opine, i thrive; my words will not die.

i do not dine.
i do not dine.

Minnesota Wildman

boy, you live so far away
in your big blue house
of yesterdays; boy,

you've gotten caught in me--
like a hook in fabric, like
a stone in the sink.

boy, i want to see you soon--
let's meet in the grassfields,
under cover of snow, boy.

let's romp and let's play and let's fall in love, boy.
i'll paint you-- you'll do me-- and we'll drink ourselves silly;
drink till we can't see, till we're somber and giggly.

you're older than me, boy--
but i don't think it matters.

we'll greet the setting sun,
and hide warmly as it rises.

boy, let's fall in love.

Carry your worry in knots... pump
new blood through,
chasing the demons out through
the curve of your knee; into the sea
with your lies and immoralities.

Drink your comfort in water... suck
down new knowledge,
detoxifying worry into
your body's internal streams, channels
come flowing together, fibers growing in bliss.

And newness.

We prance about
cantankerous, the two of us--
and realize nothing of ourselves
'til the sun
sighs, and rises
in utmost disgrace;
lies and fortunes misplaced.

What should be tears turns into laughter;
would-be fears incite self-slaughter;
will I ever grow old, will I father a daughter;
I will waste away here-- need I linger any longer?