& the air smells like november / /

too dead to write

snow falls / smells like november
thermometer reads 2+ C
but still snow comes down
wet mixed with rain

sky is socked in / grey cover
hides mountains / trees / the rest of
the world / /




would you like butter fly with that
perhaps a few chopped onions / red ones
so sweet & really not red / but purple

no hold the butterfly / i prefer butter
rye bread with a bit of pickle
a slice of swiss cheese /



& some times i feel like i could just drop
dead @ any moment / / then what ?



feel head heavey / feel head crazy
oh what am i to do?

a bright lite / point of light in front of the eye
back of the brain / sudden crush of / ow that hurts



st.ill she smokes / thinks about feeding tubes
the tunnel from the nose to the throat / blood

it's the small things / all the small things that add
up to nothing / / really just nothing


there's the furnace that kicks in /




*

& then


the easter bunny shows up . . . creeps through the house
drops


chocolate eggies here & there / one the stairs
out side the bed room doors

bunny hides the baskets . . .

(those little brats / ahem / little angels hardly deserve even one chocolate)


any ways that took about an hour / 6 kids / trying to keep it equal
counting out candies / /



& the night falls late again

& i st.ill can't stop thinking about


mothers who kill their children / / why why / the damned
cry / / i take what is mine
& another child slips under the water





yes the dead go on being dead / i can't stop this
progression of regression / sometimes sooner
than later / ah mother takes all back to her bosom

in to the ground with thee


& what is this fear of dying i cling so tightly
to / / cupped hand to the water / oh you are turning
white again / & think of me when you fall to sleep @ night
let me be


the last thot / & i can't remember where i was going with this


& body becomes a mystery again / only partly remembered
& oh
if you'd only taken better care / when you had the chance

& don't you think it's odd when some one says
would you like that with butter fly

& wouldn't you answer with some thing like
well i have daisies in my eyes & blood in my throat
& i've never really been much for butter fly on or off
the side

you know / it's like entering a contest that you never signed up for
or some thing like that words elude /

the plague of late nite / draw back from cynical / remember
you weren't very smart in the first place / & in second place
a few words you won't remember /


& blood escapes veins / slips through the skin

bleeding from the inside out / epic proportion
lies of various sorts / illusion of delusion
or some thing like that

hell i'm so far away from here already i can't remember
what is was i was going on about / i'm certain tho
i felt an unsettling current / ominous / black clouded ness
& the tickle sets in /



no no no butter fly with that / i can't remember the rules
but i'm sure if some one offers me butter fly one more time
i'm going to / uh /




well it is winter you know / sure spring was days ago
but up here in the mountain / white coats the trees