THE MARK
maybe it's this eye or the other
that hears
a loud color off to one side
maybe it's the question I can't help but ask
you
don't want to answer
maybe quiet is warmer
but
not knowing
where you stand is a question
you ask with my lips
using a ball of hemp and a needle
while threading a cage
for my breath
lugging passenger kisses I push from diving airplanes
when in the window of a passing bus
our crash-landed reflection
yelling for help across the street is
too far away to hear and you're right
beside me
sifting through numbered cubes of rubble
too many years ago to seem
like
right now and then
too much like a tic-tac-toe calendar
I can draw
perfect circles but
your X's always win
OZONE: A SHORT FILM (CHECK LOCAL LISTINGS)
it's fitting that
by the time
we've used up
the earth's fossil
fuels, we will have
punched the last
hole in our global
ticket for reentry
into a show
none of us wanted to
concede the end of.
then, on our way
to the parking lot,
all we have
to do is think
of a place
to bury
all the dead cars.
