A.M. Coffee
Satan in my coffee
on a Tuesday morning
riding shotgun
to work with Bob
and his cat-Black,
in a white Chevy truck
black coffee
I need cream
to make it brown
and sugar,
lot’s of sugar
to kill the strength
to calm the storm
brewing earlier in my
roach infested coffee pot
‘they lay eggs, you know’
Bob says to me
the cat hisses
it despises roaches like dogs
particularly the one
crawling out from my thermos
~^.^~Black Cat~^.^~
Cat.
Black Cat.
Crossing the street, Cat.
Cat.
Black Cat hisses!
Tires screech.
Rubber burns.
Smoke clears.
I didn’t miss him by an inch.
Cat.
Black Cat.
Not just another
Dead in the street, Cat.
Cat.
Black Cat.
You should have never broken my heart, Cat.
Black Dandelions
though you thought me beautifully evasive,
Dandelions
smother and choke
their counterparts;
Dandelions
know no boundaries
they only know they exist as I exist;
You hand her Dandelions
tied in your mother’s favorite silk ribbon;
I wilt
at the sight of your black blasphemy
because you loved me once
Who would’ve thought your blackheart charm
would soil seeds after you bled them
then buried them, dry?
Trainwreck
Black tie-dye canaries stall the
hands of time cradling infants
still umbilicalled in the
hanging garden’s euphemism
Cataclysms and Catholism
may be the answer to a self-imposed
self-apocalyptic junk-alcoholic veering
down the tracks @ a 125 miles per hour
but I can’t see the moon trying to eclipse
the sky for it is fucked as I am fucked
LA must be a logical place harboring
my body as an epileptic earthquake
the Richter scale reads: 10+10+10, and
I wished my superficial girlfriend would stop
reading me bedtime stories gauged with
animalstic fairy tales of skid row; I feel
barbaric and I want to conquer Germania
just to fuck with the demon dogs in her head
but she constricts and I have flash backs of
birth of contractions of gestation of copulation,
and I can see my mother poetically broken by what took
an eternity to create merely took seconds to destroy-
and the roses smell pretty, still