Skin On Skin Off Skin On Skin Off

Because the rain did not stop humming
Our last words no one went out to disarticulate
The spine whipping from the clothesline.

It was a snake-eyed night and we were doomed
To swallow our hammered hands.
Just as that mole sits—a burned pearl

In the pinch of your eye or zigs are carved
In the crying girl's wrist—we must now chug
As much moonshine as we can, slapping

Our cheeks to pass out or blush. How it gives us
The sustenance and amnesia of bees.

Flash lighting. Bleached teeth. Savage animals
Mouthing oh-oh in sleep, we crumble on the floor,

Dreaming our blackjack as parades
Of manhole covers wobble
Down the alleys of our chests.

For weeks we'll sit in a bathtub
In the front yard, makeup clowny,
Banging our pots and pans

With a boot. We've got everything you want
In the matchbook of our heads.

Oh, gutterglow—mutter it, mutter it again.
Make us savor the last word you speak.

Copyright © 2007 Alex Lemon All rights reserved
from Hallelujah Blackout
Milkweed Editions
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission