North America, just one of many sections of the Wonderland Amusement Park, Democrats and Republicans backstabbing one another like water on a duck's back, only the ducks are eaten in Chinese restaurants, and the few that remain are made of ink and appear in cartoons on cable television.
I squeeze
the sun today, in
lieu of you
incoming tide . . .
lolo hooks a world
spun with
captions above
empty boxes
a million
stars, and a spotted
tampon
to be
loved by someone
who sees me
in shadows unwatered
by dollar signs
spotting . . .
sometimes christmas
comes early
think of me
as a child blowing
bubbles . . .
into a sky darkened
with fish scales
a child, she
stares at her photo . . .
yesterday
convince me
you are more than
a wet dream
covered with a towel
on a clean sheet
comfort me,
teddy bear, always . . .
heaven's river
a cracked egg?
i want to become
something more
than an ingredient
in stained memories
her last breath . . .
watching autumn
clean house
the feeling
i had when you visited
me a week
after you passed away . . .
rippled water
stop, before
the mirror inhales you . . .
morning haze
money
floats past you in a
bubble out
of reach, daring
you to pop it
searching, and
the thrill it gives you . . .
clumps of cloud
deep inside,
a ride you haven't
ridden yet . . .
grasping for strips
of cuttlefish
playing me
like a mah jong tile . . .
dandelions
want him
to take you over
the edge . . .
into a darkness
sewn by spiders?
how many
days are not enough?
winter wind
will the fish
swimming beneath you,
open its mouth . . .
glasses of sake
and wordless songs
the book
i read half way through . . .
winter's breath?
my friend, the
lunatic girl sitting
across from me
blowing words into
unfinished stories
empty words . . .
weaving winter into
dried fish
is plan two
a walk through empty
hearts in a
city full of whores
searching for donors?
young girl,
your children eat fish
made of pulp
robert d. wilson
©2009
