Marfa
I sent my love to the showers.
My sisters are on the blink.
The beer must take a letter.
These poems are on the house.
Say you miss me, Marf, I’m out of gas.
If this is the information you’ve been seeking,
I’m a lost and pissed-off alias.
My personal self has not felt your private breasts.
I mean nothing to the circles of mocha.
I was not born there.
I’m consoled by this hole
where you once tarried, a rope
around the wilderness.
You’ve got me surrounded.
I can’t come any closer.
I crawl inside you like a car.
Is it true that we are fools
to have ever expected
anything else?
Just once we should have been
staring at one another
over candlelight and cognac
in a Grand Hotel anywhere.
Two people can build one fast
in emergency situations
which have been the only ones
dealt us thus far.
But we couldn’t even afford the poverty.
Marfa, I’m still locked up in jail
with boxcars on my mind.
Marfa, today I’m so happy all this is falling apart.
I give my purse strings a tug
and drive on through the grove.
Saw my hand shrivel.
Saw rags swim across the sky.
I dreamed I was home, and that I had left,
I had even left the leaving, so far back was this
I was supposed to be home thirty years ago.
My wife will think I don’t love her.
My beautiful wife!
Or was it my mother?
You’ve gone walking on the mountain alone.
There was much sadness in your face.
I’ve hurt you again over the price of cheese.
Without you, the calm is delirious.
Perhaps up there you can look down on me and laugh.
Marfa has nothing, she is pure spirit up there.
(I could say something nice about her now that she is gone:
She has perfect teeth. And not only that
she rules the world.)
Wall of death edumacation
booky booky
manic blue flowers
for
Marfa
silver flowers
silver flowers for Marfa
the wall of death
stack my deck
for Marfa
Manic blue flowers.