Monitor Desk

What do I see? The dusk of day slipping fearlessness away.
I see shadows on the desk and a brain full of progress.
I see big glass doors and people who snore.
I see tall straight trees and learning disabilities.
I see cat-eye glasses black as night and
frosted windows painted by slight.
I see bursts of wind and openings dimmed.
I see brass lights and I.D. frights.
I see sweaty palms and suppressed songs.
I see brushes of women walk past, hoping they will last.
I linger on each eyeball in response to it all.
I see paper mate gel pen, grey and white.
Oh what a sight in which to take under, take over, fall, then blunder.
I see jackets and scarves and purses and bags
as they sag over sloped shoulders.
I see various haircuts, stare juts, fair mutts walk past me
but can’t get past me because I hold the key.
I see invisible maps and invisible locks.
I see lists of names and plenty of socks.
What do I see? Just my head on the clocks.

Gorilla, My Love

(in response to Toni Cade Bambara’s title)

I hear the sound
Of fault, ringing.
Sing low, I sway.

RAKE THE PERIL.

Beat so shrill, hair curls like maggots.
I hear you flick
Bugs, so slick

RAKE THE PERIL.

Does it quake?
The sound you make?
Gorilla, My Love.
Silhouette of burnt skin
Charred so dim.
Slice down, off tune, Swim in your
Petty corners. Sit in your pool of
Stagnant dreams. I wonder.

RAKE THE PERIL.

Bound so tight, strength is right.
Squeeze my shins, ankle bruised.
Lift your ape fingers
To my chest. Let them rest. FEEL.
CONTRACT, then.
Too human. Too flimsy. Too hairy, your knuckles.

RAKE THE PERIL.

Gorilla, My Love.
Wash my scent
In your sweat.
Does it reek?
The love you seek?
Chain by chain, I gain
nothing.

RAKE THE PERIL.

Etched in gold, so bold, I hold
You in my invisible arms
That blend
Into the outside scenery.
One thick sheet of glass.
Too clear. Too fake. Too cold, that touch.
I brush my hand, palm up
Slap that sound, a droning hum.
Between us lies
Something wrong.
Gorilla, My Love.

RAKE THE PERIL.

Enclosed you are
With plants of plastic
Rocks of foam. Pumped
Waterfall, manufactured to seem
So real. So unreal, it seems.
Manufactured to gleam. Drip.
Too soft. Too smooth. Too thin, that stream of water.
I hear you sigh, silent you pry, into my life.
Separated. Neglected. Underrated. Welted. Conflated. Fucked up.

RAKE THE PERIL.

Shadows cliché, bend and break
to cliques that take
my breath away.
Gorilla, My Love.
Let us stay. Together, but not.
I stand, alone on my side (of life)
In a bug-free room
With artificial lights and plenty of chrome.
It’s just you and me, now.
Gorilla, My Love.

RAKE THE PERIL.

Too difficult. Too impossible. Too chilly, your eyes.
Pleasant they used to be. Now, blackened by cries.
Outlined is the glass.
Outlined is my heart.
Outlined is the future
That tears us apart.
Don’t say anything.
Don’t even move or blink.
NO FOOD OR DRINK IS PERMITTED.
I stop and think;
I am outwitted.
Gorilla, My Love.
I look through the glass and realize that: we will never be together.