++++
this house is like a face
I live inside, windows blinking
on the neighbor’s yard.
my sister lives
inside my version
of a face. her life
has nothing to do
with mine, we just
live here at the same time.
still, she drinks with me
beneath the eaves
where we watch
the neighbor boy
blow up
the evening frogs
++++
our neighbor boy
tries to break into
our house at night.
he cannot. can not. for my sister
lets him in.
he steals Oreos while her pants are down.
she loves him with a hybrid love,
half pity, half jailbait fizz,
though he’s hairy and on
the dole. she wants to be
part of him, he’s stuck
on her. let them be them,
of and on.
++++
she and he engaged
in some sort of
frog-licking
ceremony, I guess,
the poison gets
you off: you,
but not your rocks.
the frog’s got psychedelics
baked in
its skin, not much
of a defense but I guess
a plus when it comes
to making reptile
friends.
I despise the neighbor boy
and all his pomps.
but I must admit:
that kid knew
his way around a frog.
++++
later my girl walked
past the nuked-out TV set heavily
in thought and
panties. the neighbor
boy cranked his go-kart
up, headed
for the kitchen and
a rotting case
of Schlitz. he stopped
short when
he saw my girl
and instantly
produced a wheelie.
++++
don’t start he started
with his usual
don’t start I said but
was forced to do
the neighbor
kid. I did him up
and blew him off though
we both knew
he’d be back–reinforced
by hordes
of grim-faced
frogs.
++++
I admit
I wander naked through
the darkened face–ok: I use dreams
to slip ideas out. fact is
I don’t always do
what I think
about, don’t often think
it through. the prosecutor said
you do the same time either
way.
++++++++
the house’s head
is made of
wind, my basement
can keep
nothing down.
our garbage gleams
inside flat black
plastic skin–
you can see
the dark bags breathe,
mostly, weirdly,
in. long live
the neighbor kid!
I killed him
yesterday
now sis and I can sit inside
until the face is all
filled in.
- in the white house - May 16, 2013
