Crystal Curry

Death, sleep knows her thing

death, sleep knows her thing


hole in light center              you have no release                  you are     

         the final wink              cabinet close                  I fear this is true  

teeth marks                          in the door                  buried in pillows and frantic

for you                               maker of prayers                fly, shit, eat, boxes, hail marys


a stoppage of color                     but temporary         the yellows of flower centers    

         taken away                your split-second                             head-hard  

hard on pavement                       little eaters                  feast to the bone

and spread                  one by one                  with the moon in my bag


over everything                 above and                   in end rooms

where the body lies               days                                 the lefsa stales   

   and a mountain                   made of coffee                      me the sex walk     

cheek-marked                Jung and me                    run off together










instructions for light



dirty plate drift & bleed is


drain in the



        brain does bright circle on


the 2 X


for soil-speck

esophageal tell


 him you’re OK IS


a fingertip pressed

                    in shoulder & then


let go is the snow


ceiling &



makes a slight rainbow under here





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