The heart our heart
is beating a hollow drum
filled with empty Daimler Dreams
the heart changes in all things
king of the hill stumbles
dandruff on the shoulder of your
Armani jacket in this land of
lowered pulse…
but the food is good
(says Winthrop)
and the boys
are doing fine…just fine
the line is busy
bees have taken over and
planted stink bombs in the bridge
flushed us into the open until
so that
a nation of warriors
under wraps
herded by busies into the boiler room
where the moving mechanisms
and the inner workings of it all
as the pleas from within
thud as dead as
dead steel drum
hum drum
dead as dumb
jimmy carter, peanut farmer
paints his pictures
cries before sleep
his head on a pillow
wailing for another chance
a second chance
gentlemen don’t waste em
that elusive empowered thing
empowered, as a punchline
for Saudis at parties
oil golf Texas men
an ice sculpture of Michael Angelo,
drip drippity dripping away
as a thirty-something sous chef
works on the flan,
in the kitchen,
armed with sharp edges
and heightening ill intent

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