a fly’s buzzing deflecting a night full of winter

between growing fingernails and a whiff of spine

holding on too tight a piece of paper come flying from a window

leg dangling from over a clock,
riding a rose-bush to dawn

a strum of the string
of waiting deep
into the winter air

eyes on a branch
trying to get on a branch
chasing each other

suddenly the skyline or any reasonable offer 

There’s this wonderful didactic meme about ruining snack time, in reference to the brutal bloodshed which occurred during the Chiquita Banana Massacre when three thousand striking workers gathered on a sunday following attending mass were brutally slain in Colombia at the behest of the United States government. Recently something similar has given me pause: having just relocated to the Crescent City area we’re presently at the height of King Cake season, a fantastic opportunity to celebrate that lord and diminutive, immaculate savior by carving up some brioche dough, following feast of the epiphany and continuing through ash wednesday, in hopes of locating the plastic baby hidden in one of the slices. Which is all delicious and pious until one notices Baal magnets amidst the icons of Bacchus prevalently parading about, and discerns rephrasing of Aleister Crowley’s preferred tenet — recently spotted on Jay-Z’s sweatshirt — ‘do what you wanna’ slipped casually into the refrain of a popular krewe chant following the iconic ‘joc-a-mo’ chorus… o_o

apophenia 
world’s oldest 
profession

green
green green green
green
green green green
whenever I want you
all I have to do…                                 

her
o
da
vid
b.
01
47
d.
01
16

bullets
ballet
and belita
face a frame
for reflected rain