Mikey just got his blues today
folded curtly crisp
by calloused C.O. finger tips
tossed into the corner of his cell and
I want to write you a poem
the kind of poem
that bends back 10,000 year old trees
like virginal reeds in their youth
due to the gale force
of pitch-perfect rhyme and meter
I want to write you that kind of poem and
He strips off his 6 month
Oranges
down to 16 year old flesh that youth
has still left scarless
bronze like Hera and Zeus
had one last bastard demi-god
to wander west side 72nd
without the knowledge that he is
el hijo del corazon del dios and
I'll have to sculpt each simile
with precision
like a perfect scalpel because I
want to write you a poem
that hits with such force
like mega ton warfare that it
leaves a silent crater resonating
in your rib cage and
his eye is finally healing
the swelling is making it's slow march
to oblivion across his left brow
and that punk ass
punk motherfucker
is going to motherfucking pay and
I want to write a poem that
you can curl up and sleep in
the type of poem that can turn
proxima centuri into a shiv
and lacerate the moon from
her high flung perch to place at your
sleeping forehead
I want to write a poem to make
the audience applaud and breath slip
out of non-believers and
the walk to rec
is unassuming numbness
except for the rising
soundtrack in the back of his
newly shaven head
hacks didn't check the razor back in
it's all phantom bass
rolling in subliminal murder
like god thunder
there that punk is
hides the hand
so C.O. on the right
doesn't know what the left
is about to do and
I want to write a poem
that wraps around your neck
like piano wire or the moisture of your lovers
breathing and
Ciro got the gaurd distracted
Mikey moves quick to the target
punkass paybacks going to be a bitch and
a poem that can bring religion
sweltering and smooth
like snake handling the gods out
of the bayou's gaping mouth
and
it's like shock
ripping up slowly through
the spinal cord
oh fuck
Mikey's eyes gone glow
something like white
fuck ciro
only more so
oh shit man I'm bleeding man oh
knees are unreliable
and skin is fragile
as knife
fuck man help me
shreds his back
and in pain
fuck ciro
he reminds himself to
help me please
pray
please
because
he doesn't want the last
words on bitter
bitter
please
tounge
to have been obscenities
and I
want
to
write
a poem
Copyright
Eirean Bradley 1999
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