The Autumn hour has come,
And I can barely speak.
Heart-flutters echo in my ribcage,
Vibrating along my skeletal frame
Down to the wells of my gut.
Cool, clammy skin wraps my body together,
Tied and bound in a double knot at my throat,
Tangled and backwards.
I never thought I’d hear those words,
Roll over my tongue…
Copyright © Alexander Pseudonym
Your face never looked older:
Scores of lines track softly from your smile
To the pained corners of your eyes.
Beneath your unkempt fringe
- it used to flutter on windy days
_____And tangle between us when we kissed -
I can read lines as a map
Tracing each river of pain
I’ve trickled over your eighteen,
Nineteen,
Twenty year old face.
Some things we can never undo.
Some cuts can never be salved.
We’ll never forget how wrong we were.
Copyright © Alexander Pseudonym
Each day outside my window
I see that brick wall.
I know every crumbling slab by heart.
Each dirtied, spectral imprint upon it,
Each cratered crevice,
And lingering, paranoid hole.
Before sleep has even left my eyes,
As the world comes into vision
With smeared, foggy clarity,
That brick wall stares me back,
Pins me down,
Its looming shadow weighing on my shoulders
In a full-screen eclipse,
Forming a smirking metaphor for my life.
Copyright © Alexander Pseudonym
A jungle of sterilized, lipstick seductions
- Smooth, plastered, eyelash fantasies -
Relentlessly caressing
With an airless wink and slip of the tongue.
It infests city streets,
Claws its painted nails along my ear canals,
Jumps up and down for my attention,
And whore’s out red-lipped fantasy
- That had better be your wallet
_____Bulging from your front pocket.
Copyright © Alexander Pseudonym
