The Bleeding Pig

The bleeding pig ran around the room in a circle
Counterclockwise
The men didn't notice their cuffs were drenched
The women hid the wet hems of their skirts by shifting their waistbands
Clockwise
The kids were overjoyed
Socks red and heavy
For this was how we celebrated our independence

Cloven, pawed, finned
It never really mattered what the gods thought
Only when an act came down
Did we scurry away from the carcass
All of us to our respective holes
Shivering with shame and forgiveness

In the meantime
A silverfish peels through the sawdust floor
Everyone with two legs is pleated and pressed
Wanting the party to be over
Or at least for there to be more pig

The men prefer to count the pigs
Forgetting which ones are which
The women have to prepare the threshold
Infringe upon throat
Pray for speed
Forever waiting for the one that can run forever
Countrclockwise
The kids never notice either way
--
1/12/09
Sunrise, Jabberwock, Monterey

Youth

Blinking youth
Flashing projecting overdesigned youth
Frilly curtained proud of something youth
Making my coffee serving me my food youth
Visiting grandma more than she remembers less than she wants youth
Keeping their pants on while they talk about church youth?
Not if they know what's good youth
Dirty springy budgeted youth
Planning hoping electrified youth
Bubbling over glinty excited youth
Getting fatter settling in youth
Not reading enough youth
Pleasantly surprised youth
Not doing what you did youth
But just enough to spoil the movie youth
--
1/10/09
Fresno, CA

Why Jen Won't Die

Her face is turning
Was the upturn
Now the upkeep
Holding her back from forthing

Why Jen won't die
Is simple in theory
All the crows ask
And know the know
Deep inside their chocolate spectrum

A fazing and aging
Adding words where things think they know
To know is so bony, human
One of the ways
Jen won't die

Taken out of complex
In smooth black limousine
We say, "Lincoln"
and "stretch"
and you know what we mean
Another fabric for Jen not to wear

In an open grotto
A blaspheme turine
There are chevrons and cantilevers
And all along
Jen won't blow
Dinah won't know
A blanket on the sand will characterize

We pail in comparison

Some Ed Heck composite
(why Jen won't die)
In cartoon colors
But sanitarily
Slip away
in flecks of amber legs
and mosquito eggs

There are tiles and blotches
To round the edges
Flavor the eyes
With waxy marbled golf surface
An ancient crusty
slavey cinnamon
Jen will die
when we let her

And blue is the new blue
Some lost recipe
To recoup the danger
Scare out the oils
Push forth the pork
So we can all get back to what's good:
A morning opinion
A sensible adventure
A Jen that won't die
(every time we turn around)
--
1/9/09
United flt. 6229 serving DFW to LAX