Bullet Holes Through a Four-Four Count
Slinger
Waiting on the day
for the Swallow to transmute the air
between this ether and yours
patterned after an annual bedsheet
and full of a chest
swelling with blood
and a face
as forgotten as chests
buried beneath sea tides,
legendary rainbows wide
over forgetfulness -- subtle forgetfulness --
collecting material for a nest; a grave, sour
maw of disappearing Now
reappearing in your eyes
next to anti-eyes
'ere smilin' hell at this faster incompletion.
Tiptoe.
Mirror
Select. Load? Holster. Stalk? Draw.
"Do you have a moment, Miss Seer? Look what I've drawn."
Bourbon. Ex-mark. Tattoos. Born. Into
This.
Surreal. It Does. Only
Roulette. Hocus Poker. Reaching A Final Frontier
Divvy:
Brown Eyes
Coal Eyes
Wall Sockets
L.
Fire Tides
Genocides
Suit Pockets
Knell.
Slinger
You perceive a safety I count on
as we all fear we will lose
something
crucial? What is ever crucial if already
revenants bustle chameleon beneath city lights perfectly
regarding lights in wonder with other --
revenants.
I will appear before you
suddenly in the park
"Eden!"
you will laugh as though subtle darkness is a magic trick
and those anti-eyes will hide true feelings behind laughter
and I will shudder -- I once wore them, too --
and I will perceive these two sets of eyes before me,
Yours and Not Yours,
who cannot tell that this varsity jacket will soon hide more than
Sin. On your face. Syntax; Synonym; Smiling -- Antonym.
Drawn. Holes. Your face -- too memorable -- too
unforgetful, they dream
Forever Now. Beyond Sleepy Hollows.
Dying by first light,
living beneath your iron sunsets?
Your red roses kissed blooming
out of your neck?
Forever; Us; Chasms,
Angel.
Mirror
Silence. Darkness.
Each Day. Random.
Today? No.
Where
is
He?
Copyright © Richard H. Dunsany | Year Posted 2017
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