On Writing Friday's Poem

skin tingles, my toes curl, adrenaline sends
churlish waves through my intestines
seltzer of coconut water and ice
Friday the cool popsicle tongue
wearing a yellow banana

she is panting in my living room
and outside the weather is stunningly beautiful.

Pomegranate

It's been night for hours, the eye swallowing in the flourescent street lamp,
which it's draped with her lid and peers down into the crowded city street,
spies the freeway on the left where cars and trucks roar and thrash at the air,
buzzing with white yellow photons like a flower's pollen disturbed by bees,
or the spores of a puff fungi, kicked into the air in great flumes,
bearing light, sounds of bus brakes, funelled air, cigarette smoke,
and the narrative voices of hipsters.

I sit on the floor of the eye, the lid wafting over my body,
forming a triangle with my toes, nails raised to my face,
stained, wet, posed before the cracked flesh of the fly-eye.
A single bulb illuminates the amber varnished pine panels, the eye-lid blinking.
And from where I sit on the floor, the fruit opens its mouth,
a mute chick's, brilliantly red, obsequious.

I split the mottled red crust into pythagorean pieces.
It's blood pours into the blackened spaces of the floorboards,
draws a crooked line down my leg, as my teeth eagerly
scrape and scoop out its fish eggs. My mouth radiates tangency, filth, corruption.

Above me, the eyeballs roll to reveal only white,
and by body revels in the sensory presence.

St. Basil's Cathedral

She crawls through vines
to realize electric orange nails are growing
where there should be flower buds, the sepals and stamen are
dewey, naked eyeballs, the whites predominante, the corneas ebony,
blue, hazel, ruby, saphire, carnation, and so on, bedecked with cowls
of studded jewels, reflecting light admist the masses of silvwhispering to each other
and where there should be leaves, toungues, pink and tiny,
like those of babies, grow next to dog-like ones, wet, dropping,
like an unfurled roll of toiletpaper and trailing enough drool
to water the entire garden. As it were, where drops of it fell
into the cool black dirt, newborn ferns open their mouths and caw for food .

Above her, through the luscious lenghts of aloe-like vines,
she observes the sky embroiled in pink, purple above St. Basil's Cathedral.
A dozeon or so puffs like frosting on cupcakes, adorn the towers in great luscious
swirls of buttercream and creamcheese whips, lavishly colored in blold twists
of green and white stripes, gold candy pears, pink and purple diamonds,
green and gold food-color over harded hot chocolate,
halves of chocolate disks and candied fruit slices in lime, orange, lemon, and cherry.

She skirts out of the tangle of animae vegetation and discovers her body is coveredin some smooth, cool, snakelike guise from head to toe, accentuating her bodily curves and giving off a lime electric green color that reflects light from portions that happen to be in direct contact with the sky's light. In it she feels light and bouncy. She is so enamored of her new costume that she bounces right into a galloping entourage of knighted men of swords and metal-tipped spears on well-groomed steeds. Several flags whipped in the wind, indicating an alliance with the Russian Emporer, Peter the Great.