The Spirit is Near

�

Wrapped in personal pity, betrayer sphinx slinks

and eats; it privately shuffles our motivations.�

I like the capability of my eyes, the way they

brighten the woman on the curb by the church.�

She will burst alive in two minutes.� You cannot

believe the wind last night.� The things it sells.�

The sun buffs the surface of technology across

our city of cracks and cataracts, which also

ignores the shoes rubbing my feet from their bones.�

Enter some disease where the woman sells

her tears prior to civilization.� That moment is now

upon the funeral pyre.� In the crumblings and ramblings

of old men seated in tired t-shirts on the stoops

everlasting, they survey remainders of wars over-lived

and fat berries beyond the perimeter ripened

with blood brought back from the dust fields

by the worms underfoot and pregnant.�

We make wine to toast the cross and tender liars.

�

 

 

- -

 

 

 

Evening Entertainment

�

Bleeding and bent, an alibi was one way

to go.� Flesh torn holes charged with separation

anxiety, feeding.� The emissions spiraled out

and up, leaky spirits glad for escape hatches.�

Late at night, awakened in the breaches of context,

we want some sense of place.� The day knocks in;�

there is no hold here, its own stew of rapid fire

urgency.� These papers must be sent and brew

the coffee quickly.� Report before sundown.�

�

Darkness calls in a jolt and still no setting sun

from heaven.� The remote hotel on the edge of town

does not follow, does not keep your silent room

where a woman holds your heart to the light,

her smile lingering.� She insists on a gun, sawed-off

for protection.� The only way there is through the woods,

past your childhood home and a backdoor invincible.�

You receive it.� Hence, your most recent night,

sealed in an envelope on the bedside table, opening.�

�

 

�

�����������������

 

amy king is a persona vacuum who sometimes gets clogged, sometimes breathes easily.  she doesn't know if there's a bag & where it's located.  maybe she retains nothing.  check the site amyking.org for more.

 

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