lingua obscura

I don't know what I'm supposed to do
with all these pages
these letters that keep stacking up
these songs without music

themes begin to appear but
the story doesn't change it
can only be alluded to

every day is halloween
november is a rotting jackolantern
a valley I have to fortify
myself against
sour pumpkinseed

every day I dress like this
and never expect to be seen

It's opposite day

I drool straight into the grave
let tone poems fill out
blank invitations

I order a banana split without the banana

I sit at the counter and wait
for the sleigh-bells to whiskey
me away to winter

my friends have all grown
old and serious
I still love them
they are my anchors
they are my oarsmen

I kissed that girl
like it was the last time
because
more often than not
it was
enough
to ignite
the neon signs
in my shop, a thatched roof
full of tea infusions

nighttimes, plastic eternities
full moons, three for five dollars

these days
the days
pile up
like painted bones
mournful, glowing
seasons I belonged to
and never longed to leave