words

  • the morning after 9/11

    darkness and comfort fold

    sharp corners

    with light.

    .

    cellular phone buzzes like bacon,

    twisting and searing in its own skin...

    You wake up.

    .

    the curtains choke

    the neck of the sun,

    and you open their heavy hands.

    .

    cold footed kitchen linoleum,

    to fetch the daily paper

    who is screaming at the doorstep.

    .

    time for dawn's communion.

    sit and spread body and pages

    over kitchen table.

    .

    the advertisements lick at

    foreign

    sticky faces.

    .

    you bite through a scorched

    body

    of toast.

    .

    the red 

    jam

    on your lips.

    .

    the red tounge sponges

    to the bay of your

    belly.

    .

    to 

    red

    pathways.

    .

    but not to your mind,

    not there, 

    because...

    .

    advertisements lick at 

    foreign faces sticky

    with red,

    .

    and darkness and comfort fold

    sharp corners

    with light.