An Idea I Stole from Sorokin

Shoulder the great weight and carry on
perform, the key is to perform
act as if we're not carrion
moving about in restless shuffles
simulate the appearance of joy long
if done properly will seep outward
the end result being natural
a beautiful Easter egg
and the wind
pursed to the pin-prick

Safe Room

scream for me, that high-pitched
shriek of desperation the horror
of knowing certain death is upon you
scream for me
help is a fingertip away, reach out
someone will pick you up
if they can at least they probably
have problems of their own
surrounded, in lockstep with terror
the intent is there there is so much
so much to be afraid of the finality
of being left behind discretion larding
itself all over valour as you are
abandoned
all over again you rise up in the next room
safe

The Town Triangle Affair

I think of you at night
when all I hear
is the pulse in my ear

I lie awake despite
those shots and beer
and all the pills right here

Once I put all this down
The words in the window
I'm going in to town
To make you a widow

I climb up your back steps
skip the top stair
on past the rocking chair

I use the light-less depths
no thought no care
in my cold heart a prayer

Now the deed has been done
and the prize I have won
a few days without sun
then the end life, undone

Outrage at Eleven

fat little fingers
pointy nails, painted
with tiny blobby flowers

long wavy hair
eye makeup, heavy
on the lids and lashes

tight new outfit
puffed up, stretched
at straps and seams