Schofield-Alan

 Y  (Sssss) ^^^^ If only time would milk your memories from me like venom from this viper’s fangs. But every time I smile thoughts of you flood my gullet. I expel my tongue, bifurcated like so many things you are; -Your treacherous speech. -Your polarizing embrace. -Your divisive affections. I bite down.

Your voice rings bells electric- tropical frequencies that hang from shelf clouds, singing all sound kinetic Your eyes pool finest Cognac- deeply distilled to elixir, like two fine glasses for my eyes to contact And drink upon And to become drunk upon And to inebriate various moments In your sphere, my veins are warm and soft and swimming Like a tide, you roll me under Like a rain, you wash me clean You as water, you a wonder, you melodic, pulling, lustrous dream Sink me into the brisance- into the volatile syrup of your creed Weave into me each igniting strand of the quilt of fuses blanketing each thought you think Blanketing each momen

"Dragons and the Highway" By Jeremy Johnson (schofield-alan.deviantart.com) Driving home at 4 am. The sprinklers water business lawns in their secret mist, except for one rebel, gushing straight up, a geyser against the smoky skies As the moon lights up its last cigarette. Victimized, the nocturnes launder their cowls and fall asleep before they finish their prayers for vengeance, damning their soft, soft eyelids. These are dragons that live as people. They sleep like people sleep. Not but a few hours prior, they were chasing Swinging flails in their claws, magic maces and scepters with iron spikes, thirsty for no blood in particular,

I see wet babies plucked from houses They feed screams to the sky And I remind myself There are more stars Than people.

“Body Preyed’s a Body Paid” She don’t need this job God-damn dumbasses They don’t treat her right. Not like she should be She better than the way They do her here Better than all this Above it. All of it. Above all the bullshit. Mm. She gonna get her body back Get off the phones And back on the pole Making that money The real way. Gettin it in ‘Stead of gettin it taken Cuz it pays to be the Victim sometimes it do Huh. “Saturday” Blond toddler, barefoot And of mostly smudges, Palms a hotdog remnant. Cherishing the sandy, nub. Ketchup’d mouth corners, Pushing with sideways feet Up

Still 30 Poems in 30 Days!... “Ray Reigstad” There’s a guy in Minnesota Who makes wine out of worms, So can life make me an artist? There’s a guy in Minnesota Who makes wine out of worms First killing them with boiling water. “Man Vs. Nature (Kind of)” Kids play in a parking lot across from where I work. Toddlers chase and grapple I pray they don’t get hurt. I hope they don’t get flattened by maniac automobiles. Then one kid throws a big ass rock and shatters my fucking windshield. “Windless” Not even the top leaf of the highest twig on the scrawniest branch of the tallest, sk

“Shelter” when you have daggers for the world i want to be your sheath. i want to feel your arms slide up through my sleeves. when you turn to smoke i’m the lungs with which you’re breathed i’ll hold you in, my denizen i’ll choke, but don’t you leave. let’s just iron out our dreams, then sleep and live within the crease. ~

(30 Poems in 30 Days) “Light-Sensitive” Mirrors and rivers reveal no depth only light-sensitive surface colors. Personality is a cocktail of neuro-chemicals shaken in various environments, (also light-sensitive). so who cares? Especially if who I am can be manipulated by weightless shadow. That’s not me. A dog yips a thousand miles away against semis and slamming doors, weather, running toilets, and screaming spouses. My one-year-old son looks up at me eyes agleam and whispers, “… Pup-og…” And that’s not me either, but it’s damned close. “Spring” Roots pop through my cut

“Operator” It’s a slow spiral. Not like riding a one-winged dragonfly through an 80-bladed ceiling fan. More like riding aback an ant. Traversing the twirls of a telephone cord to discover just where the hell that voice is coming from.