Sihouettes

Now for some new poems, in honor of Autumn.

Silhouettes
of wheels on cars
broken, spinning out of place
blue green blue
a stuffed shirt
collar pressed and pinned
like a folded napkin
polished white washed
nothing, nothing
My God

sic

The cart-wheel girl
sits and paints the streets
in fragmented letters
her lawn is green
swept with broken-combed diligence
she falls back
she fell back and found the taste
stale
must dark corners
linen on the ground
stand, speak
in a voice of many asterisks
My jump was better

sic

Two folds and star-eyed
smoke in the doorway
with salt and sin
thinly sliced marionette
a turn or two between
twenty minute intervals
bites her lip
a subtle shift
turn left or right
turn into a gentleman,
a few scenes before
her eyes closed
My love, my sweet, my virgin queen

sic sic sic
His hands can turn and break
claw, grasping idly
fix the tie, spin the wheel

sic

Running, Running
My soul

sic

the nine tailed cat
in a beast with two backs
breaking, breaking

sic

Salvation
My soul

sic sic sic

the loose and folded page