certainly: i am in the good graces of—

my body is not a temple      it is a tar pit
and a dumping
ground

for the dead
if i could point out                     a spot

on my body
that wasn't scared
putrefying 
or cold
                          it would be

the back
of my left knee

there the world is safe
from my follies

there                         trees for climbing
have not scraped me
there                                                 i am a clean cut god

 

the back of my left knee

 

my god! we have false teeth

 

we wake.
happiness

is a dominating sleep.

we cannot live with
comfort,
cannot dream with
bullets                                     flying
across the page.
the world won't come
to an end without you. i

promise you won't
miss a thing. we can hold             hands and watch
the oceans rise. we can smell                         the burning
from landing comets. we can copulate           

until life stops being. we can rest                        next to the rain
and feel the shock-wave of droplets

until they stop breathing. run

until each and everything
in the world falls apart,

until the cells crawl off
our skin and we can com-muni-cate                         the heaven we have found;

unparalleled to smiling without teeth.