/
only
his heel is human
the
rest of him is a god
every
stalwart sinew steelshod
nothing's
mortal but this heelblood
[
when
we run our tongue
in
through the boot-thong
longing
to fellate
that
fatal flesh, to
taste
the meal of that heel,
the
mortal meat beneath
his
shinbone, the only
tender
tendon in
his
body's bold/bloody squadron,
the
only nonweapon
part
of him—the heel
his
mom held him by
when
she annealed
the
rest of him in steel—
if
only the heel is human
foot
fetishists feast
on
these Achilles kisses
[not
usually known as
the
unhardest part of the body,
but
in his case [alone], it is
[uniquely]
vulnerable—
welded
together by anklebones
the
penile stele of heel is here
the
most fragile member of
[
[that arch/fist/fiche/stele of flesh]
[heel/stele
[
[that
steeliest stele of flesh]
[
if
only the heart were too/also/similarly
vulnernable
to love's [adverb] speartips
[
your
hero needs no armor if
his
Manolo Blahnik's stiffed/quiffed/bulwarked
enough
to rebuff our lips
[
/his
manolo-toed sandal's tough
enough
to rebuff our lips
[
tongue
rhymes with boot-thong
/greave-guard
/ shinguard's /anklet
ankleboot/
tongued/ shin-tongued/
bootlet
/ bodkine / botkin
impervious
to spears and swordtips
/not
immune to spears and swordtips
prey
to love's spears and swordtips
*
/
a
leaf fell and cupped your ear
attentive
to your silence it whispered
the
usual urgings/reasons to commit suicide
profusely
clinging to the drowned self
can
you admit/adjudicate how fugitively
the
jigsaw solved by a missing piece
the
poem completed by its lost line
how
this indecisiveness is too binary
too
eager to choose the one or the anon
a
key-ring that sets fire to the sun
a
wayfarer housed in wide open rags
an
icicle locking into its cloak of claw
halo-effects perhaps but say [surround newcomers
an
entering gueststar knocks first
and
the cannibal's head up your ass
and
the caveman's noggin gnawing
its
way down your esophagus
may
meet someday in the middle
of
this hunger that devours us
endlessly
via all orifices and organs
that
strike time's tympani with
the
thin notes of requiem [a voice in chains
Basho
kicking a pine-tree for advice
cruelly
they woke their sex up on me
chessboard
on which shirtstripes flicker
feasting
with pajama-trouser-flies
how
many shark miles in your pheromones
abducted
by life prisoner of a leaf
the
pleats of my pantsuit climb squeaking skylines
[what
prank to give my chair a hotfoot
the
lovers show no mercy to the backed-up rat
[
/
*
a
fairy tale painted yes by tininess
I
furbish a lonely room of welcome
where
no partake rises to bosom me
and
homonyms trample my tongue
because
I came to samesex myself
or
I went to cohabit with death
to
dine on means animal in nature
to
greet filmstars in my gaunt lieu
[
assisting
at the postponement of my poem
/
The
days have dyed me naked enough
to
hide behind: no scar alleviates
this
boring surface.
I
must stuff the ears of vanishing-acts
to
stop the blind applause
from
desiring more. My glass
slippers
left gashes in the floor,
grievous
pits your ponytail longed
to
bathe in. We mourn your mere
whose
petty life is timeless,
wrought
from the moment. Tired of its
exigent
ways to wander onward,
down
the avenues in a traipse of glory.
I
build labyrinths for lip-readers
to
run through, sprinting
[to
pester day's girders, glide
to
the cactus rodeo where nobody
can
ride our spike-hiked hide.
]
/
*
the
name stenciled on
your
frankenstein kit is mine
but
its letters distribute so
are
they caught in the spread
of
points on a betting card
yet
causality you declare fervid
is
the sole vocation the lone rune
by
which gods can dispute their senses
so
that no later than someday we
will
believe in our superstitious
existence
as names on dotted lines
clot
up and thicken into a polyglot
ingot
and yet all the gold in Fort
Knott
cannot further bear or
absolve
me from this longshot
/
the
usual nostrums
the
day to day recipes
trace
sardonicisms on glass
pour
seashell stones on the clown
