No Theseus

I looked at you

And the building began

A throne, a shell of perfect porcelain, a thousand twirling veils

Some of silk, some skin

I chained you to it

And how quickly it shattered

How couldn’t it? 

I’m no occultist

I can’t hold another’s heart

And I’m no cultist (except to one Ocean)

I can’t hold another’s hand

But I sure as hell am a martyr 

I can hold myself back from everything

Inaction, as far as things go, is pretty

Damn 

Active.

Anything could happen

A little Dutch boy, An emaciated martyr, A twice-wed hunter with a bare back 

A freeshooter 

I like to think I know just how it all ended

He took nine steps

But it wasn’t the venom that killed him 

(Thank god for that)

But the puddle of his own perfect blood

Two inches deep

Is it so pretentious? 

Vain

glorious, 

Even?

Well, perhaps. But don’t worry. I plan to head down the street someday and leave you be.





You know, there’s a garden for her just across the road. But I can never head there. 



I tried, but I was far too       

           I never stopped feeling so strongly

(Loved, I’d like to say)    

       after all, a tool in use doesn’t rust,     it just begins to

   dull.

Just a little spoon, the kind with a twist. 

Keeps them just enough away to have to be kept in another drawer.  

Above sits a candle. 

All things considered, it’s pretty shit

efforts to color it with Red #40 

caused it to sputter far too quickly.

Can’t blame them for trying, though. 

September 

is as good an end as ever. 

Especially

For a Saturday boy

He tried to be Arachne—punishment and all—but was just another 

Runner 

No Hippomenes, I’ll tell you that much

Still, quite lucky. No death yet.

Just injury. 

I always wanted to be a beetle.

He saw their sheen and how, 

when broken, 

it was 

so painfully

obvious 

to the breaker. 





Ah, but they have lives, too. 

But no other armor covers the heart 

And the body at once, singular escutcheon, singular crutch

So he wrapped himself in paper, wrote an image 

Of a wavering, wicker man

Sometimes giant, other times a mass of shreds

Of 

Yellowed Paper

And forged a shield of bright shining iron

Folded a thousand times, 

Smithed with all the care that wasn’t 

Nearly

As inward as the perverted fire of this

Two wicked candle

Too wicked candle

And as it turns out

Putting down a shield, pulling up a hand,

Is still the right thing to do 

for them But not for me

I’m sure Jack would know, had he ever had the chance to settle

Setting something painful down 

Is far easier than picking it back up

Resistance dissolved, 

A paper tiger burns bright

So slowly, 

So slowly

The armor is removed

The body can burn

The work is saved

So read me

Read what I’ve done, 

praise what I’ve done, 

love what I’ve done

But do not ever claim to love me

Before a liar, all is transparent




And so, 

I use my own teeth.

It’s hard to tie a rope with hands rent like these 

self-righteous! self-inflicted! self-martyr!

Stigmata

Still, it’s a two parter. The martyr never puts up their own cross.

So, lacking the press coverage necessary, 

It’s just a failing suicide 

Of a fool tied to a two-by-four

In a rose garden he grew

Gnashing frantically at petals and seeds

Survival instincts long-dormant active

Hands long-riven whole

The sensation of a flower blooming from within 

Is easily mistakable for requited love (so I hear)

And unknowing, I felt fulfilled

Dying 

with a knot of unopened seeds

Stuck 

in my 

Throat 

In my

Heart