2 Poems

Everyone Wanted a Bicycle

The gelatinous boulder, blue-skinned, grows beyond the blades of the playground.
Homeowners continue their calls. They press fingers into screens a bit more forcefully.

Bus Ride Somewhere

An ear bud turns into a miner inside my ear.
He is drinking water from a canteen, talking to someone on a cell.
I can feel his head getting sweaty. His voice is raspy.

The interior loosens and something gold appears.
The gold shakes like an agitated tiger 
and the miner swings his axe, cracking the gold in two.

He eats both pieces; the chewing echoes
until the lonesome feast concludes. Then he immolates.
He slams his fiery hands into the floor of my ear
and screams; I cannot look anywhere.

Jerking violently, he becomes a miniature sun
and flows freely through my body as if I were a ghost.

And sitting wherever he wants in me, sensing my weaknesses, he projects
from his ten thousand flaming mouths an afternoon
in which I am completely stupid and what-the-fuck about everything.