galluzzo

outside, a throbbing murmur
the florentine wind is crisp with regret
dancing beneath the blinds
breathing melancholy

from the bed she beckons
glistening through the black

a cylindrical bathhouse in tierra del fuego

children dancing like steam
sweat it out
beat it out
she's a good dancer but she's got eyes for everything

icarus

boy thinks he can play
but the pieces don't wish to move
remaining rash
ever impetuous
in over his head
should've quit while he was ahead

fourteenth

spouting falsehoods is my druthers

lucid

there are moments
when my thoughts meander
a bubbling image of luminescent mass
comes into sight
pulsating, writhing
a vision of united sin
of all man’s indulgences
wrapped up into a single
thrashing dream
lumbering, blasting
through my reality
until all i have left
is a subtle inkling of expectation
these times i cannot tell
is this hallucination,
or have i slipped into hell?

untitled

wasted again
stumbling along ragged streets
cold to the bone
not a single contact
context
or place to call home
streetwalkers whistle
milling that way
or this
underwater
the surface is terrifying
i hope never to breach it
though i can’t stay down here forever

venal

machinery machiavellian
a bar of soap on a nightstand
i have come to prepare myself for death
drenched in perfidious intent

you know
you’re really rather becoming
a demure ingénue, a chic pastiche
with charms labyrinthine

despite my furtive forbearance
i may have actually wanted you
but i knew
‘twas naught but a dead man’s demand

do not believe my halcyon visage
redolent of some buc0lic love
all i desire is a final fling
a dance; a pyrrhic dalliance

provocative warfare ensues
bodies lying taut, eliciting a feral scent
as the chamber moves
to raveling and unraveling flesh

at last, an explosion of color!
your glistening skin lies
like a harem of opulence
as my hands to the nightstand move

con trol

hair risen
cells askew
pretenses down, he tenses up
and like
a wrecking ball

illumination

listen, lad:
there’s a lot to be said for
new experiences
just don’t forget
your origins yet

remember, boy:
the wild drive home
how the breeze would
free your very bones

the tender press of lips
when the biting tension
of feelings repressed
slipped to supple redress

when reality was but
a gateway to imagination
and the time, lying on your side,
that you could see without your eyes

something dissatisfied you
to be sure
you sought transformation
and at that you have thrived

well done, young man.
you have traveled so far
you can’t even see yourself

semicolon

dilapidation
a shallow casement
food aluminum
a bat out of hell
schemes slipping away
a catapulting
clinical; insane
five rearview mirrors
dog’s barking wildly
furniture’s rusted
the freezer’s aflame
this face bears no name
two breathing bodies
the future stillborn
though not even come
she is coldblooded
paused carapace
caught up in one breath
assassination