Thursday, May 22, 2008

Her Stomach is Zen in an Alley of Knives

A cat in heat howled like knives in the alley.
I looked out the window while smoking her last cigarette
and finally caught my breath. The hills of her flesh
eclipsed by a slat of moonlight breaking in
through a broken blind. I was an explorer.
In a silver conquistador helmet I steered my wooden ship.
She was a new world peninsula jutting into the asperous sea and now
she has been civilized.

The neighbor kid popped fireworks in the parking lot
and it wasn't for independence. I worried
about possible fire in the dead patch of grass.
I looked over.
Each time she took a breath the lotus flower tattooed on her stomach
bloomed. Magenta petals fierce in small doses of the moon.
Somewhere in the distance cars crashed. Twisted metal made
in America chased by sirens singing blue and red across my white wall.
I put my cigarette out in a beer can
and wondered if anybody got hurt.

Jason Hardung

1 comment:

Mad A said...

no comments? I dig this a lot