"Medication"

 

Half asleep and wrapped

in a blanket of nightmares

I pass through all the broken

windows of the world

with an appetite for cake.

It is the medication struggling

to wear off, the dew-haze blurs

of an autumn sky. I yearn

for a day without a fix, a day

with the consciousness of who

I've become in the tall grass

of my imagination.

 

 

"Game of Thrones"

 

It's one of those days

when I think I'll sink into a frozen lake

where paper ships are torched,

and I sit long inside

my last sorrow, and the earth

is lonely, and the Game of Thrones

is over, and I leave this winter

parfait to the ravens.

 

It's one of those days

when my dragons spit fire

and swirl without end, and I absorb

the outline of a snowy owl

on a branch, and the minutes

he sleeps holding her right breast

in his left hand, and my dragons spit

more fire than the pyre I march on

searching for the reasons he pushed

me off the wall.

 

It's one of those days

when I see wolves eating

the carcasses of pigs,

and I see many throats inside one

throat swallowing a shattered mirror,

like that one day when he fucked me

so hard I shivered and wept and laughed

and shivered and wept and laughed

again and again until the voices died down

and he left, and I put him in a poem,

and it rained.