Fort drum, black river dam

On the old bridge
On the old dam
A sinuous way to the top
Pushing upward legs
Pushing downward arms
Finding Olympian rings of Iron
Thick enough around for the strength of the palms of a man
Their centers could not hold
But these wheels remain affixed on shafts as ornaments
Like tarnished golden hoops hanging from the dams head,
addressing some feminine convention
some maturing expectation
fenced away from the men at the fort
the dam has become a woman as it has aged
Something you rise upon and stride atop of
Looking for origins
Looking for a birth
Looking for the charm of its structure
Looking for a way inside
Water rushing beside
And undercutting the banks
A woman grown tired beside the disinterests of the soldiers
Waiting in the shadows beside the occupation
Dignified in her decay with bright hardening eyes
When we found her, she was something illuminating
next to the lusterless opacity of the fort
-Apesblood

Dress up

Electric room and the moon
And I still want her
made a mistake, Kissed a snake
When I forgot her
We dressed up as ghosts to hide our respective shame
Cutting holes for just our eyes in the sheets
(Thin sheets, borrowed sheets, warm sheets,--- something with the sheets)
I only recall the first ones name
But remember how her clothes changed
She had made herself relevant again
Her body more thin and estranged
Her wrists, her neck, her ankles
Strange jewelry
Charms to ward me off
Misshapen eroticism in her cough
Thin collegiate cruelty
In all this:

She, the indemnity
-Apesblood

ex nihilo/hooker

Speaking with the inter-special language of emotional response to shape:
A woman hiding half her face
looking down through the glass from a high place
"In creating yourself interpret the other scape "
Bilateral symmetry
Half you half me
Formed spreading left and right
Drawn upright by the light
Vertical by day
Horizontal by night

Half of my sight
Half enthralled
One red rear light
One eye encircled

Thin are the formalities of reality
Living gloriously
Glorious violence
Glorious copulations
Glorious, but no such thing as free
-Apesblood

Them I see

Out through the window
To the moving trees
Son of man, son of God
Them I see
Away in the corner where she sits
Away from my clipped interactions
With what's in front of me
Son of man, son of God
Her I see
Muted by this days opacity
Bright past, grey future
Through a glass darkly
Son of man, son of God
In my body I see
Off the table and on the floor
Placed there by someone other than me
An object irrelevant tossed irreverently
Son of man, son of God
It I see
Yoked and staring crucifixedly
earth upturned
She bled copiously
The burden of her body carried lightly
Son of Man, son of God
Now I see
-Apesblood

Jeanne

Your picture
You in effigy
Black and White
Serene and Ghostly-because I could swear it moves quietly and smiles
Your image
You as a younger women
Crowded among the ornaments
Proportioned beside the golden pillar of a candlestick where you have already ascended in this room
Perched on a clean high shelf with lamp light and silken flowers
From here your picture can see the whole room
The floor and the ceiling
The darkened corners
The bedroom door swung wide
The white walls and figurines
You smile at me and at yourself,
the body that keeps you grounded in its wet snorkeled breathing
The metal on your bed catching light and glowing, like an Elvin blade in warning
All of the things that you have brought home from places you've been are kind and smile upon you
You chose kind things, and you placed them there on the shelves and on the walls with your hands
You ordained them, they will perform a work of objectified remembrance when you leave,
But they will fall short in holding your memory as they fell short of distilling the richness of the places from which they came
They will fail you
But now, they are vigilant and blessed disciples that open there eyes wide as your family around you, sleeps, in a darkening garden, while you atone for having lived
-Apesblood