Seems Like Forever

The sky got dark
                              absentmindedly
              & then the rain…

it was more like snorting meth
w/Jacques Cousteau
              than reciting Sailing to Byzantium
backwards

& the Tibetan monk you resembled
in profile only
had a crowbar up his sleeve
which is just the thing when your
eyes snap
                              like a rubber band
& the shadow of your heart
wrapped in tinfoil
              discovers a new use for gravity

Behind every lifesize replica there’s
a 12-pack in the fridge
              & a revised history of violence
where the western sky
                              gets tipped on edge
& spills over the horizon
              fading into the irrevocable
haze of your morturary eyes