Photo 3

What horribly
manipulative
Spatiality.

And how
zoo cryptological
can I be

in the crumbling
of stained-glass
windows?

I leap into
the backseat
of a Golden Hawk

Eyes like yolks;
head low and
awkward with nipples.

Photo 2

Gigantic gorilla w/ no head
hardened in wooden cask,
your arms have been canceled.

There is a flag on the play.
Your thick body left
hominid foot prints.

"It's an oddly large creature,"
said some Indian scholar.
"And, perhaps it is the culprit

of the millions of mysterious
animal mutilations."

Photo 1

Rattle out the picture
with that Picasso
look on your face.

Spiral into the arms
of some warm enlightened monkey.
Go ahead and bat your eyes

again you gorgeous
frightening animal.
Just lash it up.

Nickels and Dimes (By Michael Tatay)

Water burns up
in a glistening

powder of ash.

Americans use super
models as explosions,

thinking someday
they'll

get a life.

You dream blind people
in every direction.

Let There Be Light

The only pistachios
left are a damn puzzle.

And so I wait
like a goldfish

for the great ripples,
for the great nut

cracker to part the dark
clouds of silence,

for the big entrance
of the crab claw hammer,

for the honey badger to bust
out the cobra snake leather,

and get determined
like some young Indiana Jones,

for some angry worm to shout,
"I've had enough of this darkness!"

The curtains would open and
some sweet-bearded magician

would get all knee slappy
with a banjo.

This would cause the great
nut catalyst and I would scream,

"hallelujah!"

Gift

There is a lonely
labradoodleless tennis ball
in the yard.

The river is high--
a fat leather whip
to the inner thigh

of the valley.

"A wild dog is eroding the banks."

The only
movement is bone white.

"Please keep dogs out of my yard."

An effort to grab
ahold of something.

The steam from the noses
of cars as the drivers
prepare their gift returns.

And as I drive away
from a day's work,
I notice that tennis balls appear

larger than they are.

Roll on

I got a box
full of urethane.

Independents
in a milk crate.

My swiss
precision is rusted.

I'm in love
with a t-shirt

I never wear.
I swear, one day

I'm gonna
throw it all away,

but right now,

right now
it's in my bones.

Shutters

I guess,
I feel
most like myself

in the early
morning.

I wake up
probing
for my camera

to take pictures
of shadows on the wall:

the dream-
catcher
of an oak,

an ash,
the thorn-

like projections
of the ass-
end of a sparrow,

Venetian
shutters

turned horizontal
by the oblique
rays of a star,

my bones
locked steady for the capture.

[Decon]structural Tissue

Yank!

that twitch
out of
your
eye socket.

Teeth!

Just slide
right out
of the jaw bone.

Rip!

cuticles
back nervous
for the pocket-hole.

Skin!

scroll-out
the cheese
grater of right angles.

Grind!

fingers
deep into the
unarmed shoulder cavity.

Bones!

get cryptic
with the
epithelial sock-puppet.

Interregnum

False faces

in terrarium.

antlers and
horns.

Burrow,
over shoulder

eyes

resemble tiny
human footprints.

Claw structure.

Habitat:

in the hollow
of bones.

Pelvic gurgle,

pastoral stream.

Back seat
dream-mummy

probing
for the stick

shift.