forklift

we're going to need
the father machine
to pick up all these wings.
go on & talk to
whatever god we have
in the grease works.
my dad's dad was a pair
of hands. they both fed the beast
until the beast was 
a part of their language.
he has a forked tongue
& on the wrong nights
so do i. i will go
& pick up pallets
with my wanting. a warehouse
is a kind of organism. 
the dragon's lair.
to consume is to hold.
pennies plucked
from underneath lovers' tongues.
he kissed me a metal goodnight.
we played in the oil garden.
somedays i wondered barefoot
in a tongue no one else
could speak. the motor lights.
the angelic humming.
come & family me back
into the thrall. i do not want
to be a single earring even though
i most certainly am. which side
is the gay ear again? it doesn't matter.
if you're a ghost
you're a ghost & that's that.
if you're a man you're
a forklift. if you're a woman well
who knows. don't get me started
on angels. i eat some kickballs
fresh from the can. 
the scattering is too far gone.
we shouldn't worry about mess now
we should just worry about discovery.
when the light will pour in
& tell us to stop chewing. 
i used to fly you know?
i flew not like a bat but 
like a red tail hawk. i could 
pluck eyelashes from the clouds. 
i was no one's filament.