Pressure-sensitive Poetry: Reminiscence

I saw your brand new fishing
hat and we were like
dawns in our underclothes
spread like wet sticky mosses
on branches
that blew smoke in the face of my
monster blame

We spit like dancers:
at our heels to move quickly
to slide blade-patterns through the overtones
the missing syntax of our misanthrope
kingdom

We sped like firestorms

I took your carvings and trashed them
twisted my own dogs to mean
partiality for your weakness
I let the duress of a thousand quicksands
pull me under drag me up
And you tasted like springwine
under bloodthirsting moons
of white teeth

Mysteries can lick my fingers
and have the copper of them
have the fear of twenty-nine soldiers
inbred for war
grind in their innards
Politics may take my cold chocolate
zinc-laced and run through with
co-dependencies
spiced up with flesh
It may thaw the minds of stone paperbacks
ill-bred for gore

In my mind there were
two concentrations
(and I slaked myself thin) that year
under plague hogs of mourning
And the presence of will to withstand them
was not mine

We sacked the temple
and looted for more

Devil break them!
Those two under the railroad
Those fools with soft hands and
molding hair
They belong with Cerberus
and Balthazar for who knows
what malodors they wrought
writhing limb on lechered limb
Who knows what viscous fluid
once disseminated
never dispersed

I saw smiles that winter
only under my nails
only gritted for concrete
only for sale
by owner
I saw caveats and cave-ins and
brutal pangs of sound

under your filthy layers

We clung like treesloths
and the wind stung our eyes as we fell

And we deserved it
Every wrenched tiny minute