October 19, 2014

go heavy on the eye-liner, catch them beneath a wrought iron flickering gas lamp corner...

‘The Triumph of Death’  Pieter Bruegel The Elder c. 1562

 throwing in the towel to catch the bleeding
( this is how we earn a living )

the main event today
was kidney theft
and straw poll
pie making

we used ladders
as scary walkways
racing over old brick
and brownstone buildings
looking to hook bankbook
answers and prey

you carry the surgical kit
I train the muscles with ice
we’ll plan for subterfuge
something to go wrong
we’ll improvise positions
on our moral grey areas

places where
smoke and haze
linger a bit
more insistently

tonight is cool
an October damp
our fates are
stamped and matted
slickened with fallen

we're being silent
when the night
is full of hungry vespers
and cupped mouths
it gives us
a fortunate rise

we lie somewhere
between a purr
and a growl
stealthy patience
rewards us howled

use your lips
touch purse
timpani vibratos
ply them against
reach skin surprise
lure lull writhe ecstasy
victim lost when we begin

the sudden gas
leapt from behind
then my scalpel
pain freeing past
painted dreams
knock out soft jobs
kneeling out of way
of windows
this back alley tryst
your final kiss now
you’ve gone toe curling
to toe tagged
a corner being
counted out

so no matter
what the daily
afflictive whisper 
we carry 
to view heaven is
there will always be
another rich person
with late onset diabetes
and high blood pressure
willing to pay a fix
to their undercard

the mission
most life
knows death
is not proud
when hungry