Ryan Mullen

ARCHITECTURE

ARCHITECTURE

1

here we were caught dreaming orange
peel or orange popped and painted
the walls whereas the floor went
white full of small ceramic tiles
upon these sit a rubber plant
in the corner it is green
caught dreaming orange


2

green peeling paper of pink
cherry blossom and faded
green peeling
cats everywhere

giant pine green
recliner and within the folds
she sits TV flashes and is loud
blaring strangeness cats
everywhere she sits within the folds
on guard against the invader modern

seems gray but is green
peeling paper of pink cats
everywhere on guard she sits
within the folds
blaring strangeness against
the invader modern
peeling her cherry
blossoms


3

blossoms of red cherries round chairs
that could grow from trees placed
in square around square steel lake
table square in the center open
breath space large square walls
of deep red paint like war had
happened upon the gleaming bright
bamboo-yellow floors gleaming bright
skylight blossoms bamboo-yellow floors
deep red paint like war had red
cherries chairs that could breath open
space large walls such high ceiling
breath open in the center blossoms
red cherries chairs placed in square around
steel lake in the center open
breath space


4

space here is the space
where I write the poems
all the undergrads carry in
hiking backpacks until they get
a job

where I write the poems
asking why must your tires feel
and smoke like a Cuban space
where I write the poems through
computer on card-table with piano
bench that curves spine
countless hours much of
it staring blankly void
sick with something other
than the block no sick with
space here is the space and
how will it be filled
and smoke like a Cuban

cold concrete floor and humming
computer staring blankly void
space here is the space
all the hiking backpacks carry
undergrads sick with a job
how will it be filled

how will it be filled staring
blankly void in hiking backpacks
cold humming poems

space here is the space
and the walls are blue
and the clouds are smoke
write the poems on cold
concrete floor the walls are blue
other than the block
space here is the space
asking how will it be filled


5

filled with strawberry jelly which
sometimes chomps and drools sometimes
is dry and it can clench chomp and
drool sometimes smells like sea-foam
sometimes strawberry jelly
it is mostly a wet place sometimes
dry and smells like life and death I mean
life and no sex smells like love
mostly it is hungry and drools
sometimes filled almost never fulfilled
drools strawberry when moon pulls its strings

when moon pulls its strings no sex
walls of red clench and dry
no furniture can last within
sometimes filled which death
smells like love and cowers while
filled like life and does the sea-
foam shake shake shimmy
mostly it is wet furniture
sex furniture
mostly it pulls strings


6

strings sway like ghosts
no violence remains in them
last night however it had been
part of a whole sheet but now part
of it lay across the room and part
of it lay across bodies ignoring
the morning

last night however it had been
mush rush crash a bus slap a slipper
big dipper satiation and
sheets are white but smell like gym socks
and no violence remains in them
the sheet had been torn by
sheer psionic energy or maybe the dream
of tigers had been true and jungle
drums pounded the rhythm of the original
ritual and our bodies sway
like ghosts ignoring morning
like gym socks across the room
in the dream of tigers drums
the violence of satiation a heat
which left the window swallowing breeze
and strings sway like ghosts
pounded by breeze and jungle
drums which are distant
last night however the sheet
had been torn


7

torn from my purpose
inevitably my thoughts
turn to love
my purpose

to love torn thoughts

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