14

Hangman

(I)

Pigeons scattered like rats and dead weeds rose from the water.

Where are my arms growing to?

That's what I said to no one,

But now I've said it louder.





(II)

Yes, I’ve been here before.

To where everything was off, I coughed

And then I died.



I’ll concede its obscure upon admittance

To worming through the dirt.

I will stamp and spit on the dirt.

A room of perfect walls and furniture,

On the dirt.

What do you make of me?





(III)

Then

Let me show you who I am.

Then

Doing what you want me to do.

It’s so cold,

I’m just not used to this much space.

Fear the dog that knows how you teach it to wait.





(IV)

A window is a window, and an opening ends in muck,

Why should I work harder than this?



Hold that fear to the floor,

I need not know how it fairs.

Embox pity approved mutter and put its sight afar.

This battle of relating to reality; eliminated with my power.

Reconciliation will lend to recovery.



An announcement that includes a cry, ego, unlawful recalls, desires, sales, nominations and a direct rejection of indulgence.





(V)

For those who remain yet to know

It is in my assumed absence that I do bury this face,

Or thumb or sleeve or dilemma, or pattern or know or orange, or labour or lace or ambiguity – I’ve lost the order.

But I, the fraud of harm, visit only in passing

Then flee at the slightest hiss.





(VI)

The hangman who hides his face is there behind the door.

A metal bracket for an arm, six rocket teeth and alcohol dialogue.

He gains thirty years as I step close.

Carry on, he says,

Allow me in your way, I say.

For your consideration, he slaps my face in asking.

It is now clear my skin is to undress.

My exit is not noticed, and I do not question his praise.





(VII)

The hangman who hangs himself up like that

Sees the hand disappear below the rain.

Calling! Calling!



In presence, it slipped and felt the line through.

An entrance dismissed; how stunningly wrong my perception.

Meaning – I choose this, hang onto me or slither away.

Though it's yesterday now is all I am.





(VIII)

Excuse me, how does it feel?

Can you see me?

Stepping over lines.

I sat responding to a pause, turn it all to nothing.

Eating stomach in order of blood to bile, liver from blood to flesh.

There, I heard that if you leave a drop behind, a turn of agreeance will take place,

I, the leech, left just one, though I approved one more.





(IX)

Reveal yourself – blank.

This is me,



Plucking glass from the craters that you threw upon the ground.

Choose to live or to loot,

I sip the drop.



This is me,

Here, I heard all the language

At a banquet to the witness of response.



Are you so thankless to not consider this display?

I am so thankless for this drop.

To be so thankless I am the monster.





(X)

I will not deviate from form.

I will not be the wrong thing twice.

I will snap when you feel it

And perfect - the means of want.



Noticing a repeat, I’ve been here before.

At my own chorus in agreeable ignorance.

Stripped to cover with only brown broken hair.

Killer, now what can you take from me?



Take your win.





(XI)

Here we are, my hangman,

Listening to what goes bang.

I’ve fallen down again

To become the colour yellow.



Only you are owed the sunrise,

Thrown into a different hole.

You know now it’s time I go

To become the colour yellow.