11. Gunshots explode in the sky

as the initial crystals
combust into themselves,
demons and dragons
igniting the night into flames
of quartz, like Christmas presents
implode into strange galaxies
and feats of aerial architecture
in thunderous booms as if the
skies were suddenly falling
and comets were raining from the
ground up
accompanied by whistling snakes
calling out like maddened birds
flaring into the storm of
sparkling starbursts
and fireflies twisting about
only to end in unknown curlicues,
trajectory
undefined

as if we have not enough
Vesuviuses and hurricanes
that we must stuff them into our pockets
and set the night on fire
for beauty, for pleasure
for the sheer
fireworks

10. Ne me touchez pas

Vases

one would think, invincible
with their armoured surfaces
sprawling with pink arabesques
high – upon the mantel
or a table
far away

though in a corridor I have many
it is suddenly in this group
and on the floor
that they become so vulnerable
that if a herd of elephants, perhaps
came charging through
picking them up with their
impossible trunks
and carelessly flinging them about

no finer china
or more refined design
could stop the onslaught
of beauty, of vases.

9. Squished Caterpillars

Upon the red-brown cobblestones,
All sprayed across the ground –
The crushed intestines roast away
Beneath a heartless sun.

In almost lovely yellow seas
The ants are interspliced –
The spotted skin resilient,
A boat beneath the waves.

Unwary of the earth they tread,
Yet mindful of the way –
The time flits far too fast to note
The banquets underneath.

In torrid minutes, crisp and brown –
The bowel-juices fry;
The blood is soaked into the stone
as recognition – fades.

8. On Eating Sand

Why must it be
boxes of sand?

I would rather it be
pails or shovel-fuls
or if I was daring
I would sprinkle it up
to the sky
and watch it
rain down
or draw a circle around me
and pretend that I endorse
witchcraft

or even eat it

but I detest these
boxes of sand
because they accomplish nothing
with their
boxiness

7. First Incision

Cheesecake:
pouring cherry-red, livid –
delectable, shining liquid,
almost delicious

Peaking out
from beneath the demure surface,
off-white cream and mousse
perhaps delectable?

Beneath a certain knife
lies a prize
if not for tongues,
then for our hungry eyes

6. Christmas in June

Misplaced by degrees,
this ornament will catch your eye
at certain angles –
this stuffed reindeer’s eye
will glint in such a way –

So even if you were not before
you will now

despite the misplacement of
our Christmas in June.
These trinkets, baubles, toys –
will light some sympathy in you

and you will come examine
these exotic fish-out-of-water
and hesitate

but after a few more visits
cannot resist –
succumbing, melting inside –
until the coins pass from
your hands
to ours
and seal
the deal.

5. It’s – Forgivable

You are not impressed by much – are you?
Stand there gab,
                          gab
                                 gabbing away –
with that haughty air of distaste.

You’ve seen that, done this –
you know it all – are so self-righteous.

Yet are a victim,
of society – of everyone.
And you’re so caring
and so supportive
and understanding too –

But you make me so damn mad
with your insidious lies
of supposed conquests

Though you’re kinda cute
standing there
so I’ll stand here
and laugh away the hours
at all your
precious
              jokes

4. Uncertainty

contained in the infinite eve of Choice,
hovering in the great stillness of Night –
reflecting the world in one glassy Eye,
succumbing to the inevitable pull of – Gravity?