Palm Sunday

excerpts

"Trauma"

                                                                        The legume-eating

                                                                        baboons

                                                                        built

                                                                        beet juice pontoons

                                                                        and led us to a man

                                                                        who'll only eat his peas

                                                                        if they're arranged in a parade formation.

                                                                        We asked him about fear,

                                                                        and he said he had only

                                                                        one fear.

                                                                        We asked him what it was,

                                                                        and he looked at us and

                                                                        whispered,

                                                                        "Ever get a pincher-bug

                                                                        in your weenerhole?"

"A Deal-Sealing Kiss Left On an Unwindowed Wall"

                                                They kneel

                                                                        naked

                                                                        in  a pond

                                                                        of lukewarm vomit

                                                                        behind

                                                                        a barricade

                                                                        of burning cars

                                                                        where the fuel

                                                                        of unprogress

                                                                        hatches

                                                                        like half-eaten

                                                                        afterbirth crayons

                                                                        smearing a scene of

                                                                        how David became Goliath;

                                                                        Like an angry Vishnu

                                                                        in tug of war

                                                                        with the perfect lotus of unconcern,

                                                                        they gain

                                                                        enough weightlessness

                                                                        to wither...and die.

"Incompatible Temperaments"

                                                You said you could have stayed

                                                                        in

                                                                        love

                                                                        with someone like me if I weren't

                                                                        so weird and obsessed with death.

                                                                        So how did you expect

                                                                        "someone like me"

                                                                        to react when you spoke those words

                                                                        with such weary and gentle breath?

                                                                        You used to wear

                                                                        understanding

                                                                        like a queen would wear her crown.

                                                                        (Therapy?)

                                                                        I drew your face on a tree yesterday

                                                                        and

                                                                        laugh while I chopped it down.

"Going to Market"

                                                           The skinless

                                                                        symmetrical

                                                                        chunks

                                                                        of pig

                                                                        and cattle flesh

                                                                        glisten

                                                                        from behind

                                                                        the widowed counter.

                                                                        Some elderly woman just

                                                                        purchased an order of calf's tongue.

                                                                        (If that tongue could talk,

                                                                        it would curse her.)

                                                                        The butcher notices me

                                                                        watching him and smiles.

                                                                        (He doesn't know I've come

                                                                        to kill him.)

"Nonsilent Night"

                                                                        Living...

                                                                        We met in the snow.

                                                                        (the water we walked on froze)

                                                                        Giving...

                                                                        (you melted away your clothes)

                                                                        The undoing...

                                                                        (of your belt)

                                                                        Tongue tied...

                                                                        (to a pair of lips where nothing went unfelt)

                                                                        Like gifts...

                                                                        (to the newborn king)

                                                                        You came in screams of three.

                                                                        (let heaven and nature sing)

"Easter Mass"

                                                                        Scan

                                                                        the pews

                                                                        for that morsel you lust;

                                                                        The one holding the tiny bible

                                                                        beneath her giant bust.

                                                                        Become undazzled

                                                                        by the stain of hypnotic glass

                                                                        and

                                                                        give in to staring at her

                                                                        perfect heart-shaped ass.

                                                                        You came to me and asked if

                                                                        desiring her while you sit

                                                                        in church means that you have sinned...

                                                                        Collapsing your tent of sacrament

                                                                        and asking why I've grinned.

                                                                        Hell, I'm the man who thinks

                                                                        Jesus Christ

                                                                        ate more pussy than Jim Morrison!