Geez, Jacobi
It’s only the gray scaffolding the spider webs hang on
or the piss-plant in the back of the infirmary or
skim milk running down a mirror or mountains
creeping down the broken one. It’s only
whatever crystal-eyed face you make it.
So what if you’re sleeting. If you’re slipping away.
So what if it rains down into you. You say:
Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, and dad,
put the telephone in a box and bury it. Fuck.
Twelve hands can’t dig around forever,
but they can
and they press down a dock into the ocean.
Twelve eyes are like jewels, Jacobi,
only they prick at the roof and get bled on.
A flake of red on red. A jewel in the mouth.
Stop now, you’re cornered. A man, a man and a man
And a man and a woman and a man.
Raise up the plus sign
of chalk, get your nails. I am going to sleep with you
and sleep with you, and sleep with you.
Mark the street, the house. I’m gonna,
I’m gonna write this building down,
down, down.
