Michael McCall

Your hot breath on my chest
Congers images of burning flesh
Bends life through a prism
And cast nothing
...

I put ice in my scotch
there I said it
the guilt
not an abundance
...

Found an image of you in a book
books are for dogs
paper is for birds
i ripped the pages that came in contact with your image
...

What ever this is, is blasphemy
the look of sin and deceit
so beautiful, but incomplete
A smear tactic used out of context
...

It’s pretty clear at this point
That it doesn’t work
But I salvage TV’s
Tube type
...

I wonder what's next
Disability or sex
Vexation or rest
Legs are spread
...

We are not all that common
We fall more and more
Failure is the only option
Placed before our eyes
...

You will know me by the company I keep
by my beats
by the rhythm in my feet
You will know me by the scars you see
...

oh what height have we reached
three fingers now
no ice
the steady burn of cheap whiskey
...

i heard you were falling apart
casting your irons and stones
pulling and plucking your last string
breaking your windows
...

what buzzes more then the hum of a fluorescent lamp
yellow light beating down on my balding head
a lonely place
sweat collecting
...

I saw him yesterday
He walked with short brisk steps
Shoulders hanging low
You try it, tell me what you think
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a delicate amber oasis
called into questions
for malpractice
censorship is mild
...

not only are you burning in the sun
but you are burning alone
to restore yourself
trying to be something that she could love
...

she says the suns always setting somewhere
it hasn’t been up in months
she lay flickering and dimly lit
counting shadow puppets on the ceiling
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It's a filthy little imagination that has
brought me here
conjured me out of thin air
now here I am
...

I recognize YOU
there is something behind those eyes
she lacks the depth
she lacks the Child
...