Longing's Song

I'm the catnip's scent
I'm the purring sound
In pursuit of lust
I'm the feral hound

I'm the rhyming source
I'm its ceaseless caw
In the timbered heart
I'm the pouncing maw

I'm the empty tick
I'm the timeless hell
I'm the drowning flesh
In the wishing well

I'm the grasping want
I'm the craving tongue
In abysmal lull
I'm the longing's song

Dirty Eyes

I woke up covered all 
In fragments of a dream,
All sticky like the scent of skunks
That sprayed my storybook last night.
—Wash up!  the voices shrieked 
And pushed my head madly beneath
A pool of tears until I drowned 
Again inside another dream.

So tell me whose tears were that soaked 
The leaves I'd flipped through all last night 
With every flutter of lashes so moist.
So speak but make it soft and clean
And hold my hands and smile and joke
And only then describe my nightly scene 
The screens projected on my twitching lids 
The ghastly films my dirty eyes have seen.... 

The Little Mermaid

The dripping black descends her back.
The blue lips (painted onyx black)
against her battered knees they rub—
But who is babbling in the tub? 
I don't recall the drowning but 
the ocean raging flaming red.

I hovered high above the flesh. 
The sirens; flash; then silence 'gain.  
That scent of skin, dissected fresh.   
The little mermaid...living dead.