8/18/08

suicide providers

that night
he was wearing his mustache right
his hat hung slightly to the left
black as the beads in his eyes
while his suit smoothed
the edges of his shoulders
like porcelain soldiers
straining eyes at rabid prizes
and he pretended
to be a pirate plundering
ancient cities
as a glass curtain hung heavy
changing one or two phrases
into perfect bedroom stories

1 comment:

joe douglas twain said...

Stop writing Jesus poems!
Jesus, stop writing poems.
Stop writing poems, Jesus!