MIDNIGHT PHONE CALLS FROM MY ALIAS Quit pretending you are still a teenager That girl at Wal-Mart keeps asking about you Have you written your obituary yet? Which of President Kennedy’s sluts did you like best? I’m not frightened Are you? Where have you been hiding? Making any money selling cheap fireworks? Why don’t you visit me anymore? Sure Go ahead Enlist in the Marine Corps Here are some verbs to help you out Crawl Slither Sneak Snivel Grovel Let me tell you something you need to know You want a crate of chocolate chip cookies? Buddha walked through the door showing us the new tattoos His entire body a geranium covered in blue and green and black and yellow and red What would it take to make you speechless? A maniac’s kitchen knife to cut out your tongue DIAMONDS OF SWEAT Drop to the dry ground Tiny explosions of dust A large serving of memory please In a chilled wine glass With slivers of yesterday I always…
Kyla Houbolt: A Natural Poetic Eye
What the Bears Do If this is a dream I will open the eyes of my eyes before life kills us all. I want to see what the bears do. I open the ears of my ears when there is a dear hum or sound of grinding that burns. The bears hear it too. The bears are not dancing. They may surround us with their large smell of hot fur or drop to the ground, lope off into woods we did not know were there until the bears claimed them. We have received from the bears something of fur of the woods of knowing in our blood but what about when blood is gone? What then? Then I will wait for the tiger sure to come. I am not prey. I will follow and not be mazed by that hungry chthonic gaze. It may be that any death should feed somebody, but in my family we burn our dead. Journey For a Monday Monday and suddenly I feel an intense longing for the desert….