tattle (20171022)

layer by layer
i will open the old man up
and we’ll see
if he keeps that smile
plastered on his face
we’ll see
if the light finally goes out
in that ruined eye
we’ll see
if he kept his heart in his body
like a good boy
or
if he stashed it away
in the walls
or
under the floorboards

eye of the devil (20160723)

the sun hangs angry and red
two hands above the horizon
like a sleepy devil’s eye
burning through smokey clouds

though soft and orange
i am punished for looking
it scars the inside eyelids
i see its echo when i close my eyes

i will see its echo
when i sleep
and dream blind

——

for
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Punishment

what the moon is made of (20160618)

the sun isn’t even down
and the moon has already
more than cleared the horizon
(i could measure the angle
using that old trick by
laying fist on top of fist
like bricks)

only a ghost hiding behind clouds
that roll like cream
curdling in pale, lemon-heavy tea

did i say ghost?
the moon is a pile of
polished bones
rounded by a little circle

it sees things
and my bones see things
and from the sky
i can see myself look up
at myself
wondering when i will blink