smorkaft

[smorkaft]

I have buried my beliefs out alone in fields at night with the silver spoon that was nigh-attached unto my mouth I have ravaged any want any longing for a change with a policy of war with a deep-blue trail of flame I have gone beyond the doubt and lodged myself in mud 'til the only thing I tasted was the metal in my blood

[smorkaft]

there comes a sound from far below the tremor of a piano the strings attached whipping the wood to sentience to livelihood the diaphragm in far-below a squeezing-red sì-o-no organ pipes gushing blood my heartstrings hooked to my limp tongue no courage for love too scared to be happy the air reaches up two words keep me standing I do, I do

[smorkaft]

you've grown up with it but it doesn't feel yours could it be that life is just short a pet, a dozen a house, a room they were there once now they're in you the world is a graveyard breathing and full they were there once now they're in you

[smorkaft]

in colors of The Grand Kindness wine gum packets in a ciborium in colors of The Grand Kindness flesh falling off The Lamb of God how come the sky is so bright if it's all cloudy outside is there really no telling when our sadness might dawn rainbows erupt from the pit of flesh, of love and of spit a Full English in Thailand two clasping hands and I'm gone in colors red, green and purple oil pastels in The Jordan a mouth full of salmon two clasping hands and I'm gone

[smorkaft]

the world is a graveyard and its beauty is total the off-white of bones permeates the air in fog, in pollution, in clouds and in breath the off-white of bones slowly creeping in and its beauty is total juxtaposed with itself the off-white of bones has colored the world

[smorkaft]

the wind won't raise the flags out here and the sun’s too scared to look at me the bells will toll but the clocks won't tick when truth is finally gutted

[smorkaft]

someone told me the afternoon sun feels more tiring than the morning one so bask in sleep I bask in you the rays won't sting me I'll stay here cool and all my suns are set now all my suns are set now someone told me the moon at night breathes in cycles breathes in light so bask in waking I bask in you it's quiet now the dark won't move and all my moons are new now all my moons are new now

[smorkaft]

citerar jänkare som tagit sina liv

en kallsup utan någon hosta därtill

kanske är allt upp och ned

eller så är inget särskilt enkelt

[smorkaft]

life is a thorny vortex in a bog in the middle of nowhere holding the delicate body of eternity in place the mating call of a robin two rotting acorns on the ground there is stillness around a twig breaks in half a plastic bag tumbling in the wind is closer to God than I will ever be but I can hear the racing heart of every adorable rabbit beat somewhere on a golden field a harvester will crush my bones

[smorkaft]

asking priests if they believe in God is faith really all that relevant we turn the earth, the earth turns us the truth might lie in some substratum the truth might lie, and nothing matters the truth is obviously - that faith reigns king the set-in-stone is carved with tools monkey paws, and monkey drool no ark, no bush - but He might have lived monkey man, our Jesus Christ collectively now come alive hallelujah, a truth was long overdue tongue-spun, threadbare, needle and thimble inkblots, nightmares, Hell and a manger only uncertainty can birth truth like this

[smorkaft]

sure, life's a bitch but thinking about it is its own ditch cutting the tires on your own hearse you've realized just what life is worth well, it just don't work like that, no some things don't work like that, no mini sculptures in wood books you haven't read, but should it seems that time goes faster only when things slow it's been evening since before I woke and all my thoughts are work now all my thoughts are work now

[smorkaft]

failing strangers on the street I've heard stories of how they meet in some sappy-something video but it don't matter, I don't care if they're not you what chance is there of a better life for anyone the birds chatter, I'm alright sipping my coffee 9-5 but I can't help but wonder you-know-what I'm so accustomed to inaction so comfortable with all this absence but then my heart's suddenly waterlogged and round and round, it goes again wringing out what's wrung to shreds wrong is wrong, and all I know's that's right

[smorkaft]

father, your old little deaths your star children centuplets I couldn't watch you pass but I could find you cluster bombs that won't set off shrapnel in the still-composed can the waiting weigh in on a blast splitting just to spawn anew your star children are much like you your cameras, your clothes my recollection a mitosis of symbols starts every time I break to parts the way I've really felt about your passing what's carried, is carried everywhere more present now than you were then the things we leave are unseen 'til they're not father, I don't want your death to be what I must carry when I choose to tell stories of my own

[smorkaft]

cuckoo, cuckoo, goes the cuckoo bird beating in my ticking chest red, blue cables make a nest in this pumping IED plastics make up all of us dissected like a playground bug cuckoo serenades you unto life and into death soon, tidings of spring hearing cuckoo once more sing will bear the same dread as the deathly still of winter soon, as the tulips spring to life bouquets line the stocked store aisles the flowers will have meaning cuckoo, thrill me one more time

[smorkaft]

flypaper buzzing with fluorescent lamps clothes chairs and stacks of unread mail meat chunks on plastic wrap and smoke from a dirty oven throwing up at random intervals yard sale paintings line our walls idols don the form of house plants in this blurred-sky part of Comfort meadows emptied of all bees the shade is still too hot for me the wind whispers sweet lies while my skin only gets redder blackout curtains, jeans in July tick grass strokes against two thighs my shirt is sticking to my back I think I might be crying a lifetime of puke breath teeth of our true selves this world of rotting apples lies ahead of us now

[smorkaft]

your clarity doesn't mirror you the streaks of light speed to your liking I know about you the way things get caught in you your usurpal spirit your clear cuts are not true your faculty pockets of you hold an infinity the way things get caught in you your usurpal divinity your clear cuts are not true just as this world can't keep prophets alive your clarity doesn't mirror you

[smorkaft]

parenthetical the days between moving out and moving in settling down to hook the eye to tie the knot to your supple skin the iron's hot, it's melting now bead-wide holes, your wedding gown I don't think we're keeping up this time acorns on the garbage dump saplings all my frustration our fingers hook and I hope that's enough I can't even see the sky in all its glory, all its might has light really been reduced to this