Broken Toy

Open the walnut box
with the broken hinge
to rediscover how we end.
There, in rough pieces
of light we scatter
broken toys, refract harm.



2.

Fan out and scream.
Let football madness infect truth.
Do not worry about potions
and apothecaries.
Count aches after you die.
All history is revision.


3.

In the end of water
eyes change, scowls deepen
when the circus ride
resumes like waves
that neither flatten
nor roll cross sandbars.

I arrived too early --
carry indelible words
in a silken bag stuffed
with theatrical hats
lifted from Magars and Huns.

Celebration is a drug
that leaps past ache.
It reverses ill fortune.
It makes lies, truth.



4.

Run darling HOWL and catch the cluck of Ginsberg
and the mucky mucks. HOWL until terminator
breaks perfect plane, curves back upon ancient stone--
follows the last of geometry into the blank star.

I am the noise of the death of the planet called Terra
Count my missing ribs. I was created from woman.
The earth is a magical sore that will heal
when we rub rub rub glan or clitoris with bags of toys.

Unfold arms, legs, might --
press the powder against our skin
when fireworks start,
when air stops we will persevere.



5.

Suck the lemon drops child. Suck the candy for paradise
runs down your sweet tooth and I hold you close myself
the last visitor to myself and my voices, like broken light
the box is the last place where love's trapped before expulsion.



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