“Noble Absurdity”

Glass floors and iron teeth,

people made of stationary.

This is what he dreams about.

A cat that’s lost his grin,

an eagle with no eyes,

a throne divine,

and a map that never lies.

What does it mean?

Golden skeletons with white crowns,

laughing upon stallions made of blood.

A prince with one arm,

standing amidst the chaos,

clutching a black ribbon.

He’s full of despair,

alone in this fight.

But it’s just a dream,

right?

“Blanched Greed”

There is nothing civil about your love.

It wrecks me,

not a dove,

but a vicious longing.

Something you created.

I buried myself inside your pulse,

while you sat and watched,

that girl,

sitting at the bar.

And the next time I saw you, there was a smile,

framed by bleached lips.

When I asked you,

where you got them from,

you said it was just a friend.

“Glances at Best”

I saw her the other day.

Her French lips and Italian eyes.

She was just sitting there,

and I was walking by.

So beautiful,

I wanted to see her thorns, her secrets.

But she was so red. 

And I was so hollow.

I saw her again.

Her dark, very German hair and articulate, old English eyes.

She walked right by me.

Secretive and gorgeous,

I wanted to hear her voice, her thoughts.

But she was so other.

And I felt so normal.

 

“A Notorious Headache”

Loneliness of your own making,

your eyes are open,

and you find yourself in grips with it.

This fucking venom,

chronic and life-giving,

killing my ability to react.

Reflective, terrible,

it sits inside my chest,

and rests against my pulse.

Sometimes I can’t speak.

But I can see.

I can see the leaves,

and the way the sun dotes on them.

It’s beautiful and has its uses.

But it hurts.

Because I’m alone,

by choice, though.

Right?

“Holding the Man”

What do you say?

Will you run away?

With me, in you hand-me-down car?

I know a place, I promise we’ll be safe,

no one will see.

Your father knows, and so does mine.

Welcome to the unemployment line,

so long as we’re together.

I bought you a ring today,

and as the woman boxed it away,

she asked me who it was for.

As you can imagine, I was shown the door.

I understand, why being different is such a cause for concern.

Still I yearn, to take you, my darling, to Italy.

Where I will dance in the dawn with you,

and hold your hand in public.

Where you will guide me down the sand,

and away from dry land.

We’ll float, side by side,

inviting the tide,

to our wedding.

We are playing a game,

in their eyes, a false declaration, a schoolboy crush.

But my sight only falls on you.

My love, my husband.

I don’t need anyone’s permission.

Because when I kiss you,

I taste the stars.

My hands start to shake.

I grab onto you,

as our prophet delivers his final words.

I can feel your heartbeat,

as quick as a hummingbird’s.

Then nothing, as you turn to look at me.

I guess Italy will have to wait,

for something less ornate.

But we will stay together.

I won’t leave you.

It’s got a hold of you now, my dear.

But I still have that smile you gave me,

your beautiful laugh.

I replay them in my head,

as your lips see red,

and the ocean steals you away for good.

It is in Italy that I will be misunderstood.

Lying in a golden glen,

holding you,

time and again.