Poem-A-Day #350 : The Emperor Has No Clothes

The Emperor Has No Clothes

1
The chair ruptures - extends
into the ceiling - meets the sky
it reaches with intentions to choke

2
The ass in the chair is absorbed

3
What does the gold of a crown
do in a blood stream - hot and mobbing
can it maintain points - hold its stones
against the tide of cells

4
The diamonds are from this hole
and this hole is dry and fucking

5
That the body was nude when absorbed
that the chair a sort of live tree
turning root in its chamber -

6
To the skies with everything

7
Place the amethyst in your palm
and pray to whatever god
that you remain clear-headed
in the face of this

Poem-A-Day #243 : Impulse of Lateness

Impulse of Lateness

Your hand on the trunk
of the tree

Leaves making their
inevitable suicide

Here a sky
being unexpressive

The tree symbolizes
absolutely nothing

Even though you're sad

Your phone is ringing

Does it feel like stone
the trunk not the phone

Rough
we all know the feeling

It is time made physical

Your phone
it's the thing you're late for
calling you