ALEX LEMON

 


ALL THIS FRAGRANCE ALL THIS ALL

 

Alarm clock
& voice.

My skeleton
Is being

Absorbed
By my blood.

 

**


Lobotomies,
Phrenology,
Electric shock—

Listen
While you
Measure the

Limits of
The bull-
Pitted head.

 

**

 

Reoccurring,
The dream

In which
A hanged man

Wakes
& blows
Me a kiss.

 

**

 

For
The golden
Clothespin,

Scuff of
The sidewalk,
Hold

My hand
Before
It falls off.

 

**

 

Beneath
Streetlights,

Rats dance
Through

Chewed-
Open cans.

 

**

 

The fun
Park inside

Is being
Renovated.

Bell weather,
Blackened eyes.

 

**

 

Along
The interstate
Construction

Signs flash:
Warning.
Zombies

Ahead.
Run For
Your Lives!

 

**

 

The hours
Grow

Bloated
While I

Climb
The ladder.

Each rung
I touch

Bursts
Into flames.

 

**

 

If truth will
Never be
Known,

I regret
To inform you:
Fuscia roses

Drying, upside-
Down on
The clothesline.

 

**

 

The cat
Fur—

I collect
It in old

Spaghetti
Jars. She will

Never die.

 

**

 

The art
Of contemplation

Escapes me.
I’d rather

Be a missile
Filled
With honey.

 

**

 

Don’t you
Worry

About
The sky

Pressing
Down with

Its never-
Wanting-to-be.

 

**

 

Night wind
Overturns

The lawn
Chairs.

A stranger
Is asleep

On the lawn.


 

                             +++

 

 

WE COULD BOOM BOOM

 

Saying yes to everything
Does not mean you need

To grunt at each person
Who says hello. I have

Taken this to heart.
When my mind is

A colander beaded
With mercury,

I name the world
RIDING A BIKE

WITH NO LEGS. I look
Into each passerby’s eyes.

There have been quite a few
Moments when I’ve felt

Like I completely understood
The proper way to pounce down

On a stranger from the deep
Shadows of a live oak,

But I never remember
What to do when I’m back

On the mealy ground.
Instead of bolting after

Snatching the purse, I turn totem
Pole & stand like a jack o’ lantern.

I’ve met many people who have died
This way. But I’m a lucky man.

Welcome, welcome. Yes, yes, yes.

 

                             +++

 

 

 

COME SWEETLY

 

It starts
The way

It ends—
Fingers of

Impossible light
Crawling

Over your
Face. In-

Between—mind-
Less waiting.

Mouth-gunk
Or a gunked

Up heart—
Going is just

Climbing
Back inside.

 


TYPO 14