Alone to the Alone By Alex S. Johnson

For Kari Lee Krome 

Life can and 

will 

snap your 

heart like a

dry pine

Bough.

The rainbow sweeps its

rippling 

wings above

the ribcage of

form

It feels insane sometimes. Not 

trusting, not 

daring to

Trust.

The robes of whore death

rustle 

the Pope has spoken his 

sonorous 

mouth detached like a 

furry saucer from the

teacup.

Merrit Oppenheim I am 

ready for my 15 seconds

of

absurd 

fame. 

Marcel Duchamp I am breathing hard.

My ironic fossil dive bombs

off a 

Cliff of

roses.

Sister, I stand 

next to 

you in

silence.

As we walk 

the pathways

As our hands flower into

blasts of 

stars

As birds like grace 

notes

render themselves

music. 

It's more quiet now than

I recall.

There's a softness that

divides this

sorrow like

A mysterious Nancy Drew

passageway through

The library 

Archive of new beginnings.

Echo the cheering section 

Echo the soft and

rapturous 

communion.

Time sits comfortably on

a stoop 

Swigging a bottle of angels. 

Alex S. Johnson is a retired English instructor, disability rights activist, author, editor and publisher (Nocturnicorn Books). He is known for his highly unusual poetry style which combines influences from Dada and Surrealism to hip hop, black metal, industrial noise, T.S. Eliot, Walt Whitman and Rimbaud. His books include the acclaimed collection The Death Jazz, Bureau of Dreams, The Doom Hippies and Bizarrely Departed. His work has appeared in such venues as Horror Sleaze Trash, Black Noise, Bizarro Central and Cease, Cows. His upcoming books include The Junk Merchants 2: A Literary Tribute to William S. Burroughs, featuring a roster of luminaries including Poppy Z. Brite, Caitlin Kiernan, John Shirley and the co-founder of the iconic Goth rock band Bauhaus, David J. Haskins. Johnson ilves in Sacramento, California with his family.