Never Know

You never know how in the dark you are
Until the dark is in your eyes and in your bones
Until the only home you own’s the home you had
Until the good things that you love are bad.

You never know how far the dark is in
Till where you are is where you’ve always been
And where you’ve been is what you’ve never known
All the standard flaws and giving up.

You never really know how deep the cup
How tight the wire, how fit the glove
A gauge is just a thing for hanging on
Your measure when it’s here you’re gone.

You never really know how far you’ll go
Until there is a line that you won’t toe
Where you find the demon’s not your friend
You’ll never be the self you were again.

 

 

 

 

Doll Dreaming 14

in the doll’s house
the doll’s dolls are dreaming
they’re awake
so little difference
nightmare and day

climb the stairs
you’re in the basement
pick up a phone
you’re gripping a knife

farther in takes you
farther out
no telling which till
there’s no going back

when the doll’s got you
looking out or looking in
stage light is
the only light you see

the demon isn’t dreaming
he won’t leave without the girl
he’s working the closet locks
cursing them like a mortal man
as if words could do and undo

sudden light
the girl’s awake
an open door

and all kinds of places
where the doll
cannot go

 

 

 

 

Doll Dreaming 08

08. The Demon Is Dreaming

the demon is dreaming
the roof’s off the house
he’s up in the sky looking down
the house is breathing
floors rise and fall
walls shudder doors fly shut
the audience gasps
it’s alive

the doll’s dolls are milling about
in ragged clusters
waiting for the faces
that will please the doll today
the guy is wrapped in barbed wire
lots of loud asking
if the wire can be electrified
or even just heated up in
some skin-searing way

the doll
smug malice
nailing her puppet
to a rickety balustrade
idly wondering
burn now or burn later
with the girl

busy busy been recruiting
friends of the girl to assist
in the girl’s undoing
just thinking about it makes
her hinges buzz and vibrate
she’s hungry for the girl’s face
when the girl knows
people she thought she knew
are not there to help
but to watch
and take turns

the girl’s been in the green room
the past three weeks years lifetimes
when she sleeps the demon
watches over her
what is he thinking

the doll thinks she’s trapped the demon
thinks he’s on ice for leisurely
amusement later on
but his big sleek self
is ranging all over the place
seeking even minor opportunities
to mess with the knock-knock
mind of the doll
the self-made queen
of this backwater fiefdom
where he’s been posted
for five centuries
apparently forgotten
when pieces of hell
were outsourced
to industrious amateurs
like the doll

the doll’s in a writhing dream
what a thrill
nobody is the boss of the doll

the demon is dreaming
the girl will be the only creature
ever in the universe
glad to see him

how shocking
he’s feeling
something he imagines
must be tenderness
may be love

…………………………………………..
09 Doll Parts

…………………………………………..
01 The Doll Is Dreaming …..02 The Dress Is Dreaming ….. 03 The Girl Is Dreaming ….. 04 The House Is Dreaming ….. 05 The Guy, Dreaming …..06 The Gun Is Dreaming ……07 Dolly Doll Doll Dreams…..

Turn

our disengagement, our disapproval
of the proceedings, just not caring more
about the artifact or the scary
presence of the morph, or the untoward
requisition of articles of proof,
our reluctance, our fading steamy thread
of love, our forbearance, our petit fours
our migraine, popliteal vein, our rain
and portal nightmare, our more than passing
acquaintance with gravity and all its
grave stuff, the notes we wrote pertaining to
the stock, and yes the demon in the woods,
the afterlife of celestial motion
our little spinning turn on earth

 

dolldreaming: Door Dreams

the door is dreaming
it has no side
what goes in goes out
or rather there is
no way out
the doll’s confabulations
are the only real thing

trying to escape
one enters distances
where familiar things
limn one’s demise
a chair a whole
country of torturers
a kitchen knife a
killer’s blade a sink
a place for drowning
a place to sleep
a smothering bed

many ways
to the same end
still the doll would
rather wrecks
invasions
conflagrations
quagmires
of distinct proportions
like texting mobs of
easily pissed off men
to make people
stay
where
she
puts
them
so inch by inch
they are nothing
and she’s
big as the world

the demon is dreaming
not of capture
but of things set free
novel concept for
a nether snare
he even weeps to know
what waits when the door
shakes from its hinges
a battered gate
an endless chain

to long for freedom
then to fear it
containment
being everything