three fingers and a thumb

how many secrets surplus to a plot?

ill-gotten gains now tick-tock in a knot;

be dammed and sleep through supper on a breast

that weaves sublime a tapestry of jest;

knuckles cracked and bleeding heavens sake

river levels higher than the stubble on my chin.

occult or diamonds secondary skin?

I know not which disciple second-guessed

or lived all summer long with the lizard in a dress;

bless me blind as drunkard in a circus as a clown

watch me drown

in tortoise shell in my brothers wedding gown;

come visit me on Sundays with a half-moon and a scythe.

this town my own

outgrown the bubbles steeper than a noun

that spells one hypocrite inside the belly of a frown;

my sparrow-hawk

three fingers and a thumb

with foreskin bright

as cheerful as a letter in a box

who swims all seven oceans with a plague of chickenpox!

sleep silent as the freckles on your chin

swallows whole the landscape where within;

how many spiders came and dined as lovers crossed?

not me, I am an atheist, born and fed

on liver boiled in the valley of the dead;

compass north

the road to somewhere dull as I am weak

speak whisper now the god of sleep

begs silence in the courtyard of the meek;