Shiver-Film

I thought to call Patricia this
morning and talk about shiver-film
street children of Bangladesh,
instead I watched blue pillow-reversed
smoke rise burning from a cigarette,

/listened to my heart grow sick/
/become traffic-paint rain against a tin roof/
/thoughts about heavily perfumed whores/

Way down, trickling as ocean-scratched
chatter washed sharp, green-piano-
key-words are brothers buried
beneath profitable black,
sun-coughing metal godfucking,
everything that is like sand
on cleaved neck-tongues.

War is a glass bottled ship/
is naked insanity/
is silver suns fisheye-hooked;
most of the children will
stop shivering when they die.

First published in Laurahird.com, Feb. 2005.
Later published in my poetry/visual art book,
Beautifully Thin Oneonta Moon, (co-written
with Donna Kuhn) Little Poem Press and
Lulu.com http://www.lulu.com/content/112091