You are Tasty
These pilgrimages are roll up candies.
I put distance on my tongue and salivate at foreign places.
I am there standing on my head,
Pulling licorice from my ears.
I told my friend that I am always angry at you
And he said that that's because I love you.
Love is a funny little strange thing
That scoots around like a mouse.
When I trap its tail I stump into a happy ending
And find the distance between the spirit and the orgasm
Is compressed into a joyous reluctant feeling like my hands
Making rubbing sounds on a balloon.

The Garbage Can Kid
The garbage can fell over with me inside on its way down the hill towards the village
Which was hidden in the alps.
There was a bear there,
Wandered over from Istanbul with the man
With the tambourine
In his hand.
The air was so fresh that it cursed at me in crisp words and slapped me around like a hand
Without vowels.
In summer camp they used to call me “The Garbage Can Kid”
Because I rolled down the grass like a stork
In a perch.
I found love in the refuse because it was not what it seemed but the feeling of communion
With banana peels.

It doesn't matter if the indigo falls into blue or wet becomes a diaper.
There is less to do in an onion than tears peeling back emotions.
I came from the mountains
To deliver a beach
I had stolen in a previous incarnation.
That yacht was missing its sails but three prisoners held up their palms
For the crucifixion of the wind.
If Jesus died for my sins
Why wasn't I nailed up like an aborted fetus
For his goodness?
The summer lands on the clam stand in Montauk.
I order a lobster role to seem more elegant than my neighbors.
I steal a dune buggy to make tracks across your face.
One Confused Guy
There are submarines that fly and elephants that hose under.
I get a kick out of a boot and a bruise to boot.
Nothing makes sense when you are involved in the higher stakes
Of confused dollars.
I pulled the arm of the one-armed bandit and broke my wrist.
My luck isn't so good.
I don't even get a chance at merit or rewards.
I am stuck in a mind that has put its eyes out of socket,
In its pocket.
I am fighting myself like a boxer without arms,
Using his head,
Shouldering the failure of reality to make itself apparent.

I love you so much that I taste acid in my saliva.
You have turned me into a battery that energizes failed emotions.
The couple on top of the wedding cake was us
When you cared about the flour, ice cream and candy below us.
Can't you just play sweet like you sugared me up
When we were young?
Take out a plate,
Cut out a piece of my heart and feed me with it like an emotional snack.
In this bakery you are the image of all whipped cream.
I don't know the meaning of love but the taste is as omnipresent
As the sweetness of the whole store.
I hide cupcakes in my pants to snack on you when I get home.

     © David Lawrence 2014