marla singer ruined my trip home

what is fastened to this dying animal
more than the slow, unwilling, inexorable
relinquishment of sex; what pushed her,
what controlled her unstoppable quest
to live so far beneath the surface
i think i heard her scream in certainty
for the first time certain that silence
rode her like a tiger on a bone
lingering, bloody and absolutely sure
death was always the end of things

she smoked poetry, watched the entrails
writhe and disappear into nights blessings
i listen as the clouds impart their weeping
and the philosophers are singing, i feel
the breath of their dreams on my cheek

last night i dreamed about today
the word monday was on the screen
my head was down, i was breathing
i was trying to stay calm, figuring
one day soon you'd talk to me
just as Marla does

will i recognize the real?
the story of how you met your wife
how you broke your teeth on an angel
in the corner of a churchyard
what will we do
when we finally chop it all up

life-
we call it
disappearance
disappearing

black is missing
the red has a point but
nowhere to go

we always thought we'd have more time

i think of that day
i think of the moment you fell
we were nuns and worse,
behind the broken glass
Marla was there, in the background
asking for a word, a better word

she told you, i told you

<i>be a man</i>