Pilsen Summer

long nites & daze on the roof in pilsen

moon throat train howl

few stars

the city bright

and standing tall

knees deep in swamp.

Catch blows smoke in my mouth

a giant chimney makes clouds for us

a UFO invades

& we laugh, & pour beer down our twisted stomaches,

heds swayin in & out with corkscrew & crooked spires spinnin in nausea vision, blink

to keep steady.

i box the sears tower

swinin out to the almighty glow

& fall in with train veins.

& i shout, & laugh, & ask questions-

wat if i shot down the convent? wat if i bombed the condo? wat if i drew a poem on the tower?

later, while lovers sleep curled around eachother

i watch a boy walk into alaskan snow on the picture screen and starve.

in the morning, i climb the ladder, tar hot on my bare dirty feet

to share a bowl, watchin

shoes strung over a wire

the bloodyd butcher dumpin meat in the dumpstir,

the kids playin baseball in the alley with pinata parts as bases.

fingernails dirty, stomach empty,

the steel train slides thru my throat, i pull a green curtain around my head

& make clouds, puff puff, in the air, i do not drop from tall places, but step gracefully across

rooftops, peer into chimneys after dancing sweeps, write words on all the walls, dive across

to the bare chested sun bronzed bent neighbor across the street with a beer & a wide mouth.

it is sunset, the gong sounds, we are trembling for the clean air

i run cold water over myself and think of alaskan snow clumping in my hair,

so what if we have no money? we got all this-

our fingers thick with paint, the acid tongue, ear pressed against the Aztec mural

to hear the heartbeat. blind,

a ghost takes off his cloud coat and sits beside me,

coiling our limbs around the fire escape

slim fingers curling around the winding stem

lovers melt together spraying themselves across the sky in graceful arches and firefall,

sparks hittin the oiled surface of the lake.

somebody mans the flame thrower as another cloud

fades.  i take the smoke around my shoulders

for comfort, i lie out and howl at the clouds,

then up to the climb the tower again.

i am alone in the mountains, a ladder going nowhere, fire escapes winding up and down every brick, 

i am not a machine, i am made out of flesh-

& we are not alone, we are here together on this mountain, and we will cloud out & sing you stories,

sweeping the glass off the street & tonguing fire, our tar dipped feet liftin over the hot steel trains, our arms spread out to the towers.

we will burst like fireworks in the air

our bodies making colorful graffiti on the sidewalk.

****

-