You've Got Maelstrom

Mataki, 

Sorting through a box of papers yesterday, found a poem written last year about anger. Anger was a sea creature at that time. 

 

Anger As A Sea Creature 

The scene was so groggily wrapped, 

So Neal Anthony.

Behind my ears, there were circles of crows whispering:

How candid my cousin died

steeping the sea

between his lover this shark

Who would have known these crows?

There were just shadows then coming closer into frame.

 Neal Anthony was always:

bigger boobs

bigger puzzles

bigger horizons

Always strolling along this high beam littered with bright molecules. 

His Ginger wrapped herself in a wool blanket next to the fan. 

And all I can think, Does she still have that clit ring of hers? 

See here Neal - I bought you this wrought monocle. 

See here Neal - My soft, see my welt for you.

I downed your sink over on Anger Street. 

I became a river, became so very small, 

slippery this hip here and here. 

I imagine crows as profit tellers now: 

We were filled with many sleeting days.

Take this well thirty hundred feet deep. 

Take this lit storm drain, this tower. 

Take with you a wool blanket.

We bow and bow.

I would like to thank the sky then jesus then the sky again.

Give me your middle ring, Neal. 

Its so shunning, we hardly look away at the destruction. 

I promise only to peck at its eyes like a bird kiss.