I fall unto my knees crying, her eyes piercing me, light untamed fireflies, it’s making the whole room glow in anticipation. Two moving white boulders in her skull, chalk irises’ melting down my soul into ribbons. I can’t feel the darkness anymore it is all ecompusing all five senses; I am the blind beggar, the untamed lion, the deaf leper falling to pieces in the backroom with the Pharisee. I try to stand but the fireflies glow in my fists I am the slave and not the owner. I explode light out of my every pore and illuminate the cracks for my own intentions. Our light is a fooless temperature, unradiated lengthy wavebands that ripple the surface of every one, vibrate into a vibrato of lazy dead weights. Death is no place for a butcher to be especially on a Sunday afternoon in the public shot glass eye. The raptors rip the flesh of the neon children wrapped in cocoons of fishnet glory for future generations. Static egg sack be my Rembrandt light me in a solo heartless chord. Flip flap the sounds of flap jacks and grandpa at five in the morning watching the sunrise…I miss the man that held our family in his tender palm. It all shatters, but I still love his army skin coat.
copyright andrew kerr 2009
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