xxxxxxxxx after and for Mary C. Greening
if we both exist, we can live—
Annihilating
rage feels like necrosis
a pancreas
a separating
of the lobes— the massage
of certain centers
Sensors
tendons
You a horse of yarn and one—
single, blue hair
Cobalt
chronic
Grief
my one silver
strand in a basket—
Smallness feels like a coffin
a rat eats
a lukewarm silk sheet
ghost girl–
you look like a fucking animal
empty of each thought and every thing
you mean dove, an omen
that makes you me
time and you are unruly
i do see– how time affects our bodies
i do see time as– defective, being haunted
an hourglass, all sand, is a clock
what is a watch?
what is with you?
what is to do nothing
with you, to do
nothing
Iona–
how the haunting goes?
in both directions
the juxtapositions
of mosses, skeletons
amethysts to emeralds
growing worms, growing molds
is this state of decay our home?
a house is a ghost when
no one lives-laughs-loves, alone
no one yells, for fuck’s
sake you could swear
you heard it
i don’t live there
anymore, now
i haunt The Biltmore
downtown and also
Biltmore Apartments
Complex, west hollywood
same residents i float
i go through their faces freely
the corners of my sheets
embroidered, the lace
rescued from
grandma’s dress
my grave–
i stayed close to, for the most
partied, but did not return
closed in on another and an other
home– my mother’s ghost
smells of lavender
deodorant ( secret–
old formula )
i would snort every stick
if they ever made it