knotted veins your
your paper skin
your shivers your
your floury wrinkles
and your limp.
hollowed brow over your
gray gray eyes
your lapses your
gray eyes your
your lapses you
your chin hovers over your tea
breathe out, thin-lipped
your fingers trembling
C r o c o d i l e grins above the mantelpiece, his sAaAaWawbone teeth and marble eye. C [rescent moon his transparent eyelid winks] roco dile
he stares through vodka de canter de fying de mysti fying de fi led f ogg ed glass.
CrrrrOCodile’s heart bbeats bbrown, purrppippled is a dried apppipple buried in his stRAW guts.
the clock he says tOK nOt Okwell he ied it with his marbled ie
Crocodiele ticks, one two one twotwo midnight two one am the next morning when crocodile shallleap from the mantelpiece
His swamp glistens with furniture polish, bracken metal twisted under his dry, dry scales.
Side A: Zacharias
The piano is a self-contained organism, swallowing its own notes,
belching and breathing white-plumed fog
The twitch at his mouth, the tic of his hands, clenched atop the keys
his eyes closed, clockwork organic, lips thin against his skin
the uncomprehending shiver plunged into my throat
The bitter taste of his mouth, and the dry sprinkle of notes
scattered as he does across the keyboard
but he keeps his elbows to his hips
The open window makes no sense, but then
we never do
Nor does this grudging respect – his words,
odi et amo illunc, his ukulele embarrassment
and strange squinting smile
I have never liked spending time with him
Side B: Not the Fourth
He could have been but he wasn’t
he tells me
You know what a fourth is?
He hasn’t explained it.
It’s when your father is a third.
Well, I could have been.
He could have been
but he wasn’t a fourth
Then Again, North
It’s coherent in his burnt honey room
His star metaphor is appropriate here
though I would never admit it