American Vertigo

The odd perfume takes what's left

Something memory or white candles won't

Tattoos map out more than her castle handled options

I listen to the room's intent

Like she wants

and so much time still to bleed

The day has only just begun 

Spinning from the grass up

I watch the cats as her imagination plays 

She feeds and finds us all so ridiculous

And hell if she ain't right

Cans of licorice confetti

Bags of salt

A sea of genocide

Climb inside our wooden cupboards

One more holy night to think

One more frosted hollow voice

The world inside her view

That's all it's going to take

A steering wheel at four a.m.

A smoky concrete regression that helps her

Spare the rent

I watch her strange sleepy hour 

 She licks at lips and turns to the nearest reflection

Backs down and slumps

I put the bottle by her pillow

Her eyes roll and a smile jettisons

The guilty teeth speak long in kind

durations of her American vertigo