Night Tea Orange Apple Time

The apples are still green
That is there are still green apples on top of the brown ugly microwave.
There is a little silver tinfoil-wrapped package of charcoal for incense.
Naval oranges in a plastic bag, inside a basket.
And a Japanese Luck Cat sitting half-assed on the edge of a thick book called
The Aquarian Conspiracy

There was a conspiracy.

Look at July to see the lie.

There is a tarot deck, my grandfather's copy
of Alcoholics Anonymous.

There are Aesop's Fables and some philosophy books.

The incense burner is clean.

It is finally over.

Throw the Kitten in the Oven

You are the type
To throw a kitten


In the Oven


When it is heated up to 350 degrees

And cock your head to the side

And ask why the kitten is acting funny
And doesn't like you anymore.

Your Mother in the Freezer

Yellow
Yellow
Red
red
Blue
Silver
Silver
Black Lace


Ice

UN RE QUITE U NIGHT

The universal love vibration
People die from it

It kills a part of every person it touches
It makes a smile bitter

It makes smiling people stop smiling
And grow suspicious

Burn it
And wash it away

Fire and Water

Tarot Cards
Cards
Read
Present
Card
Read:
THIS IS A COMMAND
You Are Being Lied To Right Now.

Given every opportunity
And every open-ended sentence
and shoulder shrug

I Have Many Marriages

We married each other in these places:

In my room.
In your mother's house.
In the grocery store.
At the bar when you made a tomato into a rose for me.
When we slept in the same bed and I dreamt of green grass on my grandmother's lawn (and it turned into a blanket and the voice said 'you're next')
When I received the mass card from your funeral.
When we made yams while millionaires worked for generic grocery companies.

Places are times, also.

The
Flux
Factor.

We married each other when I called the commissioner to find you.
When you brought me a bumper sticker from Belmore.
When you brought me a flashlight.
When I, the un-divine found you on the ether.
When I gave you the bird.

Azul.

When we were in on a lie together.

When we made aliases together.

When I said, "I waited all week for this."

When your father died.

When we made up dreams of the future together.

When I sang an Indigo Girls song to you.
When our hero left the planet.
When we spoke in vernacular.
When you got down on one knee and took my hand.

Not Hungry Amethyst Speaker Thirst Happy Cat

No Upanishads
No pink or elephant cups
No flirting
Just talk like sailors
And the ship sails on to a stagnant present
I saw the boy I broke
I saw the boy
I passed him a note
I told the waitress to take it to him
I stood while the bartender watched
but not inquisitively,
I wrote it against the orange wall
At the vegan cafe
I told the waitress I would be outside smoking if he wanted to discuss it
Fifteen years ago
When oil paint on paper grocery bags taped to the wall
of a junkie's house
was more alluring than
the art institute who said our portfolios had promise
What do you do now?
Something in galleries.
Business card
He dropped me off at that house
Just like my dad did
and the bus driver
and anyone I could get to drive me there
I was already Persephone
My love, my first wife,
wrote a poem in the ether
and wrote a poem every time I saw her with Jasmine
floating on the air all around her
as she made me lavender tea
There are some women you can never forget

Indeed

Per say

When we could only get married in Hawaii

He came outside after reading the note
It was a reunion
Anti-enthusiastic
The bartender, the scholar, the bachelor,
the boss, the poet, the man who wanted to separate from his wife,
we sat and watched as the world slowed down under the waning moon.

I Drink Rose Water

Morrisey is only good for one thing.
Cigarettes are seven dollars.
And I have no idea why my bouquet if fickle,

Yet I am willing to find out.