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Three Poems

Filip Marinovich

Whatever we catch in a shoebox
we will let go by the river.
The frozen bank reflects us spanking each other.
Where you are going the spider invited lava.
You can ask me
if you dare burn in your own home
if Hansel and Gretel
jerked each other off along the forest trail.
Come up anytime. I’m pillows covered with come
time to go and see what you are coming along for
with your sewing kit and three wheeler.
We’ve been known to be friends
with briefs soaked in gasoline.
What is your itinerary? How long are you staying?
You should’ve been there when we burned it down.
I just want to talk to my boy.
you kiss a
ship     you
blond sandal
Descriptions automatiques
You snore and it is written to the meter you breathe
in your sleep getting nearer to automatic descriptions
of a rhino trampling the greenhouse in the distance
the hippo on dry land lost his river
the bow its quiver
the coyote his shiver
where is the her
in Tokyo and you
cannot kiss because
you picked a cigarette
off the street
now you have street lip
how is your equipment in sleep
in your black jeans
is it the gay gene
you grew from
your cellphone alarm went off
and stopped
and now you play a telegram on a couch
in the ripped open basement theater
the shells come in from the hills
and you can hear the shell in the ocean
explosion of an I
too small for me
somebody busted out of me
they named a museum after me
built a statue of me
snoring was never my meter
but quaking the wake with a 22 year old yellow
shirt tied around my neck
I hung myself and shot myself
U.S. roulette       I returned as
a game made for you
you thought you dissolved
the Soviet Union
the Soviet Union is dissolving in you
a time-release pill
washed down with a white and black Russian
Prince Washington
China is Fortinbras
Trotsky wakes and signs the Capitol hull with his icepick
plucked from his inkwell skull
a vitamin a day keeps the praxis away
the locked door is in
please open
your eyes on the couch look thin
for the camera
paycheck to raincheck cinammon
flavor on the lips chapped from kissing
what orange rind lisps
when you near it
what couch do you grip in your sleep
a throw pillow
on a wake-up pill
the bill comes I can't pay it
I wake up the rangers applaud
nail me to a dismantled picnic table crucifix
Today in middle class
two guys talked "What are they gonna fight with glitter…?
the guy in Wyoming…what's his name…and Elton John sings him…"
I gave them a look and they shut up a second
and went on talking on other things
never to return to the subject
                                              Matthew Shepard
who froze to death in a field in Wyoming
crucified on a wooden fence
what is breath if not for remembering
intervening before it is done again
knowing you are one breath from the fence
you listen and your friend sleeptalks "What?" on the couch
you make love to him through the computer
in the archaic sense of the phrase
you own nothing
the socks on your feet freeze
tokens thinging
Wyoming freezes in your eyeballs
you need more than contacts lasers and lenses to see this morning