Psychosis At Twins
Sharp alien quiet accosts our nuclear fallout,
Twin beds and I between them,
Remnants of faces
Laughter, tears,
Exchanges deadline in future tense,
The decimating absence of marriage
To anything whole--
This uniform hotel room mien
Eats emotional in-betweens
R B G
Symmetrically channeling Western loneliness:
"The hours until midnight are so far away..."
You woke up from a nap
To the novelty of a breakthrough to love.
Through our smashed windows
You catapulted incriminating ice
In hysterics
Onto million-dollar cars
As I laughed at my deadbeat reflection.
402. A strong number.
Overlooking a strong highway.
At dusk a family walks beside me in the hallway,
The boy I used to be unaware of what's coming.
A vase screams as it falls to the ground
It was cheap anyway
Like every time I feel my heart flip
Knowing midway through
The floor and its face are doomed to marry.
What does my smile mean to the waitress?
Why do our eyes keep awkwardly meeting?
Why am I still obsessed over her?
Why are you on the first floor
and not listening to that awful tea-kettle whistle in our room,
the one that sounds like the far-off scream of a dumb waiter
getting the order wrong for the guv'na of gasoline?
Why doesn't the bathroom
possess a fan?
Why haven't you realized that our souls suck? Why don't you just
sit back, count to five,
and find me lost in Swans?
Did you check behind the Kraken?
USA Mountains lend me their ears. I see them
Somewhere in memoriam,
Waiting for lonelier wine cabinets
To drop philharmonic discoveries
About cousins who don't care about you and I anymore.
A knife flew from your tingling tips. Kyrie Eleison.
It's nein 9:16 PM. The carpet is morning inviting
Than your insanity your ghost licks the bed.
"Going away for a while, hit my head,"
Said Madeline (on TV). We're selfish, can't sword-fighting;
The digital flow goes gameroom lighting,
Ecstasy shivers
and a dollop of Daisy corkscrews insomnia.
"I luv ya." You slur this and always I believe,
no matter what the future heaves
knowingly, I know this.
In the morning I'll gladly forget
Our breakdown in this indifferent Connecticut hotel.
Copyright © Richard H. Dunsany | Year Posted 2017
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