kingsoftrain

As forever’s divine infant, god inherited permanence. Think about that for a second. I cross my legs in front of light bulbs. Our food catches up to us. Shape is just rain wanting a past. A room is a line break a film is a room. I can’t move. Bring the deer inside. The horse is so small that nothing but a moth fits in its mouth. The deer is washing the feet of a doll. Bring me the doll it is crying. Bring me the crying of the doll. Turn something on. Turn on toothaches in the wild. Start a car made of toothaches. I don’t know what poems look like. Don’t die in poems.

My uncle
Lost god
In a bet
Came home
Asking
Had we seen
A man
Or a woman
Taking
His clothes
Half of us
Said man
The other half
Started drinking
And got
Naked
Longer
Each time
This poem
Wrote itself
Death
Is a radio
What was it
Before

Letter 042725

Dear Ethel Cain

Ants don’t cry or think about teeth. I got this star tattoo that cost a lot.

I worship too quickly.
My gods think they’re still alive.
Am I the world my children worry over.
Am I the worry.
My job is a soap fattened in hell.
I send my brothers songs sung by women
In the language of my voice.
I didn’t drink until I missed being sick.
I love my father in a way only my sons will understand.
I love my mother shhhhh.
Being quiet is the childhood of silence.
Hear underwater
Touch
Starve.
Or be
With sightseeing
The lord
Of your phone.
I’m sorry if that was your body.

The poem is as old as I write it. For example, this poem is too young. Come back.

Letter 042525

Dear Ethel Cain

My belly drew circles around me. A scarecrow with cancer made peace with paradise in a cornfield of melancholy. My parents fell asleep but neither one before the other. Some bad kids formed a church then left it so they could pour glue down a rabbit hole. A short period of drunkenness found a mistake in a star. I didn't know how many rabbits to pray for, so I just prayed for one.

i write shit lyrics sometimes and it's so fun and i really just want to sing into a tape recorder like a detective then drive into a lake where I don't even die all the way

VOICE APPS FOR CRUCIFIXION SURVIVORS

Fasting in the pawn shop
Of my father’s early sleep

My sadness like a dog’s thought
In the pop-gun stage of grief

Three pills left to choose from
But I can’t leave them alone

Dog tells me to lose some
Like the sticks dreamed into bones

Oh the mouths of my longing that sing no hurt
Oh the bells in my body that ring no church

--- giving god a seashell 
god can hear an apple cry
--- I guess it’s up to me now 
keep the angel’s fossil dry


MY BELLY, HALLELUJAH

in a meadow is the navel 
of a god I can defeat 
a shadow on a table 
set with food it cannot eat
my belly, hallelujah 
and its field of empty meat
a killing moving through us
slower meals of absent sheep
I don’t lose any waking
though my hair has slept a lot
alone but pulled to making
dare these cigarettes ask for god
if you think that you could sing this
in the angel time of ghosts
my stomach let it ping bliss
to delay the tattooed crow