Shoot Like a Missile

Not Sure

Out of the valley, 

Down by the schoolyard,

The arc of the swing,

Distant clatter of recess 

High above,

High and wild, above the mark,

Sat alcoholic, hairball, savage,

Anthony Smark,

Cross-legged, head bowed

Sledge-hooked

Atomic fireball spuming smoke.

"Get your hands

Out of my pants!" Pretty girl 

Puffing protests, blowing

Smoke.

Out of the back, a total hack, 

Half the size, twice as mean,

A whiskey drunk a hundred years

Old,

Threatening Anthony's life!

"Oh no!" says the girl, thread bare,

Straight as bones.

In old threads, ravel doubts,

Disconnected meanings separate,

Bones curl. 

Looking for an image,

Swimming in darkness,

Waves on fire,

Block of ice-

Dark convulsions sprawling in the

Dance of light.

Jingle jangle, rattle of skulls-

Claw-scratching 

Climax.

You write in images,

All though you

May write in thought.

Drown like a cloud in the sky,

Lofty blues.

Yawning, the machine had brought him 

back to life.

He was sitting in the grass, realizing

He was a newly grown adult.

Later, he ran in from the storm,

Screaming,

"You have the endurance of a champ."

His friend had said earlier, looking at him

In his glass with a strange sort-of reflection.

"Ga. There goes another one!" he shot.

------

Winds rushing,

Clouds dispersing,

Laying low,

Wasps' nest close by,

My skull cloud.

Central control: "Half baked poet:

"Get out of here!

"This is central control!"

------

Clasp straight to my brain;

Man to man.

Hungry for the taste of death,

Healthy food took death away 

In a cart.

The hero stood stunned.

"Death, you say?"

"Yes, I am the answer."

-------

Stand and shout!

Arise! 

Your dwelling is mortal!

Brimstone and fire await.

Shoot, like a missile!