Roller Skates To Bed

The tiger does his taxes, wags his tongue.

The moon dims towards morning.

We wear roller skates to bed. 

Wobbles and manias massaged into your brain
translate the termite bites. Your ears receive the message. 

The hex lasts for generations.

The parachute never opened.
You fell with your legs splayed like scissors.

Ghandi washed his face in the Ganges.

I made this lily pad my home.

She said, “I made you, I can destroy you.”
I replied, “that’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

The weariness comes in waves, the sidewalk buckles,
the earth opens up and dragons fly out.

This peonie is swallowed whole.

The stems and leaves too…

The tide brings torpor.
Red algae blooms.
Barnacles cling.

My mind is a monestary, vines of jasmine on the walls.

Solar flares interrupted our cell phones
right when you were about to tell me
how you truly, really, sincerely felt.
I didn’t bother to call you back
because I knew
you wouldn’t
pick up.

There are 25 post-its on my wall,
filled with 36 words I need to learn,
so I may describe how I feel about you.

The pins and bowling balls are secretly in love.

Turn to me when you are sad so I may tell you my dream.

I drink lemonade and green tea.
Watch reality TV.

Satellites orbit eternally;
long after we’re gone,
when there’s no more Memphis,
no more Graceland,
satellites will still circle the earth,
broadcasting this
long-winded diatribe
to the ants and cockroaches.

I’ll be on a solar flare,
preaching my Buddha boogaloo.


One thought on “Roller Skates To Bed

  1. ah, yes your mind is like a monastery, vines of jasmine on the walls. and reflects the nature of nature so uniquely – Buddha boogaloo! such a pleasure to read, thanks aos

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