12. somnio

a loud chill stomps
the lettuce digesting
in my fat stomach

calories, greasey
sweet calories
flee on short toeless legs

for my bowels.

i see them, arching
eyebrows over their
rosey cheeks

i hear them creasing
construction paper
into a rainbow of swans

a wish for peace
a wish for filet mignon

a wish for an end
to the tyranny of heartburn

my eyes are enslaved
to the vicious knves of light
swung by Hitler Fridgidaire

when i grab the 2%
short 98% of the reason
i stand in orange boxers

on everest, a monk
fragments into the billion
figments of my spirit's shadow

he says, "the wolf
shall guide you here

the top of the world awaits."

"What do you mean,"
I ask him,
"What do you mean?"

my cat tells me to go back
but hell is my stomach
without antacid

my cat tells me to go back
but heaven is peanut butter
and raspberry jelly

my cat tells me to go back
but the night beckons
my gypsy soul to wander

the halls, a ninja
then dive into the hole
of me.

the frigidaire, tells Eva Braun
that my ass is his,
"See how fat he is already!"

I kick him.

my dog reminds me
that I only have three neurons
"Geoff, you aren't a dog."

"But I am," he says.

My sister loves you,
I think, but she doesn't
and I know it.

I have no dog,
why are you talking to me
and where'd you get those sneakers?

a rabbit sings to me,"Little Bunny Fu Fu
walkin' through the forest
pickin' up the field mice and bopping them on the head..."

There are no fieldmice.
I am the good faerie.

Stop. Dammit, Stop
you jack-rabbit..
no, it's a jack ass.

the sunset was not that day
but here it is with you
Who are you hare?

"I am baldness,
one day your long hair
will cascade out

you will be niagra
and I will be the memory
of a hare line."

I look in the mirror
I have no hare.

My car is a cat
a big cat. a jaguar.

I will repair you
and wacks you... hard
on the jackass

my cat is orange
he says, "I am not your car
I am your ego.

see how fat i am?"

I kiss him on the lips
he purrs and tells me
she still loves you.

her spirit
it is in you.

It is christmas
the present is a keychain that reads
"no, i am not tina turner."

It isn't christmas,
it is saint patricks day
and there are a thousand bodies

littering the ground
naked and covered in
my blood.

I never know
there was so much in me.
i am so little now

a mouse looms over me
like Godzilla with a nice mink coat.

He dives at my belly
and eats it. My liver. My spleen
Oh Spleen.

My orange cat eats him
whole

"Jump on," he says
"it's not too late. They can save you"

Who, I wonder
can save one so wretched?

Ani DiFranco opens the door
"It's not too late
listen to the damned cat, Napolean."

I am short,
but growing.
I am french.

I am a baguette
"eat me," I tell her.

The frigidaire screams
and the milk dives to the floor
spreads out and plays dead.

all 2% of it, skinny
and weak
and running for the corners

on my breath, peanutbutter
yells for more bread
white bread
sliced and soft

like my belly
God, save me from

my belly
burns with fury, and cries out
like a thousand spartans

in a battle to save me
from an old Persian
cat, her name is Sam

she loves me
with Gold eyes
and soft fur

the woods are dark
i hear a coyote
who should be in the desert

why aren't you in the desert?

the ocean swirls,

i am boatless

skyless
it is black now
and I am falling

"Who are you

Jackass?
Why do you love me?
why do you all love me?"