O Fantasma

I have to unbutton Both sleeves then think of who For my execution witness list Who cares?  What is this Pouring in?  These cakes of ice I mind are sharp enough So is the current so I only Compose compose and compose On a river less ancient than this I own this temple Its passages close When I am not there I stand outside Of my dark past And applaud for hours I once rhymed “start” To “start” and “Us” to “Us” In the bath and everything And I was with a razor Fucking right back.  There is a last Sentence coming over The loud speaker, “Before you leave place your loved ones into the canon.” I choose John Huston, The Enchanted Flood, and Fun In a Chinese Laundry The closer to earth The deeper the pink And I am without my love Thoughtfulness now Behind a bruised mouth And behind eyes, Why Do you hold your Lips that way?  Because I know it looks adorable To be sleepless and circling A make-up counter I recite the lines remembered “Skeletons before a dried up spring” “Black as the mirror is” “Under my hand the pyramids arose” Recite the lines Let them die down And into the ruins I used to love this sweatshop... At night I will return to be seen The black pearl is set Into my mouth so I die With a jaw line like this, Promise me.  It’s alright To cut up the early work before. It was politely romanticized And never done to death.