Medium Man
He chooses his medium and tools carefully:
It's oil and sable promises today.
He lays it on thick-haphazardly.
He folds then unfolds the unframed canvas many times
into the shape of a woman.
Squeezing out her dignity,
then reads what's left behind...
(his flavor of voodoo).
He fondles her entrails-shakes her bones.
That spill into the shape of.. "a little less than yesterday".
Picked over prey he frames her.
Hangs her in his fun house tilted mind;
Then he buzzard hops away, taking to the sky.
Circling above searching for another pair of wide soft eyes.
He chooses his medium carefully...to fit the deed.
Today it's his black clay heart that changes shape.
From a soft nest- to cold cackling cage...
The bunny takes the musky bait,
he spits gasoline on the bars.
Runs metal talons against a dying star...
igniting her.
He waits till her ashes cool.
he inhales deeply, puts the rest in a mason jar.
...proclaiming victory
he slithers away...
He chooses his medium carefully.
Today it's his stained-glass smile....
"his heavenly mirage".
A magnet for she doves
which fly into it, heart first.
they're diced with shards from a toxic rainbow.
but there is no gold at the end.
only hollow caves and poisoned winds...
He dons his cape and crown of dying doves.
Which, have since turned from white to red.
He lounges around buffing his trophies with split tongue.
He chooses his medium carefully...
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