poem's not particularly current

[Cris Tina]

Three knaves in my dreams;
the other is me

with your averaged and winded story
have you expected to bring me down
i'm draining fluid off her lungs, comrade
kneeling in the dark; shining a penlight
over the gages, feeling contagious poor
designer, you slate people as you make them
i've given you too many chances and drank
them away, bitters for this one

I am asleep, dissuaded

renascent shameless false ficus houses
tolerating the complacent, scoping
a salvation, drug to the magnetic northern
ranges for the sake of stages; it took my
heart, shipwrecked it and ate it. i want
no part of your confessions, gliding over
hills, compassing the autumn trees, wading
in your creek—locked in for coinage

Asleep, I ask for none of this.

loved in quivering self mercy, he is not
an offering, statured by thumbnail news
swine the perverse tale and enclose him
you have stepped to the dock to kill me
steady, you taught judgment, dishonesty,
tipping the chameleon skin of your mother,
fabricated a caricature; ridiculous monster,
scale the barbed wire and get your pardon

Adjust your mirror and do not wake me.

[Cris Tina]

this poem is not current. it regards many experiences but ends with an allusion to some boys from trinity high school murdered in my city :world