anna kiss

 

 

 

 

This Afternoon I VENT

 

so there's this semi

    sorta heading in    heading out

    straight for me,

windshield wipers die, the head of the viper, bitten off, pinned to my lapel,

    no swerving

    no screeching tires

    no smashed metal.

but pieces of you fly nearly to the ceiling

'cause when you're driving home from Chicago

you're not thinking of me.

Rabbits dance like ribbon in the museum

and SCREAM AGAIN

  that BOY

  that BOY

  that BOY             and which man?

 

Kiss kiss kiss kiss my love right on the nose

between the eyebrows

this boy licks my eyelash

    you are close enough you are not far enough away

you are not touching the finger to the cheek

to the chin

to the hair

to the grin    and to the heart to the breast to the mind

to the rest. I was not sitting inside yer brain you were silent

in the car you were crying not in the dark, not in yer bed

you were drunk you were gone

12 hours too far for 220 miles

Don't drive back from hell for me

don't look back to the park for me

don't slide feathers up and down my skin for me.

The television eats your attention.

 

I'm not asking for everything

    I'm just asking for my heart

  give it back take back throw it back

   shove it back beneath the covers and hide

    from me.

     Oh you rose...

smash each exclamation point onto the end of the sentence

you think I'm angry you think I'm angry you think I'm upset.

 

Anna Anna Anna Anna Anna Anna ANNA!

    A-triple-n-a

    I-triple-you-triple-me

I am the hyporibophosphoric metalloid in red sauce

antipreconditioned welfare policy issue 27-50 paragraph double "Q"

 

I just want the skies; my life; my god; the seas; you; lightening; the rain; pop culture and water balloons; trickle-down economic theory; misguided philosophical and religious doctrines, dogmas, belief systems; every friend stretching out their fingers in the dark in their bedrooms; cuban exiles; very striking coal miners; all of Martin Scorsesee's films; that GUN; this head; this brain; these eyes; and all the limbs of all the trees; all the words of all the dictionaries; heroin skank; ping-pong diplomacy; what the heck is the Ronald Regan Cross-County highway anyway; that statement; each phrase; each note a human outcry; the stealing of car keys from his pocket; silver-shaded beef in the song; that song; THAT SONG; the Chicago Seven destroying world trade centers in Agraba; fictional issues revolving man-made political systems; the horatio change; THAT SONG; public intervention of the fall pret a porte shows in Milan; pretentious bitchiness epitomized in combos; various business holdings with demons; complex rational expressions; the tracheotomy of my calculator; mad fanatical fundamentalist cows; protowaifs; silver bells and tin horns; alien threats to crash    into    ME.

 

inyerbed    inyerbed    inyerbed

        inyerbed

            you read

            you sleep

            you dream

            you weep

 

    you do not always wake up so easily.

        in the car,

        at night

        driving home from Chicago...

        so there's this semi,

 

      staring me down,

        head-on collisions

      motor wars

        the honking of the horn

      we three cars in this caravan

        headed for Jerusalem

      la ilaha illah allah     la ilaha illah allah

            there is only one god.

      And you are not it

            you dirty dirty dish rag you!

 

You get stuck in my head

you get THAT SONG stuck in my head, in me.

      driving,

        the radio is never turned down

        you speeding towards the corner

somtimes you gotta run the red lights

stop signs are theoretical

take each corner at 50, hug the curb

hug it like you love it

      AND HOLD ON

            in the gravel

            in the cement

            in the dark in yer car

      in the circus

            on yer way back from cleveland

            hold that love

                to inuject again

            into my spine

            wrapped inside that lysergic state

            wrapped inside the way you say things

                      the way you whisper

            and touch each finger

                to the lip

                to the silence

                to the "fripp"

                to the sounds

                    in my ocean dreams

               you were there, you were singing along

               you were screaming each word softly defined

             and right this second,

             you are not here,

             you are in my head

                              driving back home from Chicago.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

everything here copyright anna kiss