My love, wild rose,
Distant & spiritually spent
From narcotic iniquity
Every time I see those bell jars for eyeballs;
The indignity of a dying soul through those irises:
One more petal falls, one less breath arises —
droop… droop…
drop… decomposed.
My love, wild rose,
Sick from the necrotizing mesh
Of cosmic mind, earthly flesh
all strung-out
On the brink of euphoria
In another nameless suburbia;
Zumbie crawling along the plank
of a ship t’sink
Down the unforgiving fissure of early morning
shivers —
lonesome depths only she can feel
Since she worships the opioid pill —
Needle up the vein, soothing those beastly fevers.
My love, wild rose,
Do you remember the tender nursery rhymes of the wind,
or even the godsend of the sun ‘gainst your salamander skin?
What about those summer afternoons
in my car
When we’d watch the rain & a cappella whatever crappy rap
Was on the radio to every passerby’s disdain?
That was the last time I heard you laugh.
My love, wild rose,
Louder & somber’s
The bell that ought to sober her with its knell,
But she can’t stop. No bullshit’s in her intention.
Soon she’ll drop & too late’ll be the intervention.
She’s gotta feed the disease
For any way they please —
Perhaps a quickie in an alley
Or hand-job guarantees —
Sunken cheeked w/ bruised knees.
One more gram for the damned
atop her ashen pyre
of passion.
My love, wild rose,
O how great our distance grows;
Tensions rise, resentment shows:
The god in me no longer recognizes
The god in you through those tin-foil incantations
swirling in your eye. Honestly, how could anyone ignore
This narcosis, this preposterous apotheosis sealed
Away in your sarcophagus, glass phallus tomb?
That goddamned gangly vegetable doom.
My love, wild rose, the
Lugubrious corpse flower in bloom; my dearest friend
Midday’s voodoo rag doll with the black tarred tears
Fulfilling the dull ritual of the little white bag;
Desire’s whimpering fire ever-haunting
In her cold, waxy heart —
Drip…
by drip…
by drip goes its beating walls
‘til no more love, no more faith, no more life from it calls,
And the harp of its dark opera
fades
With that sleepy nod.