Carey Ott



My Lovely Apparatus



Beginnings,
waiting rooms of despair.
All too predictable, formulated,
quasi-horror-flick
apparatus for the masses.

heart ('härt) n
1:  A broken apparatus.
2:  The maids are laughing at us.
The man's heart was often beckoned,
then smashed into Oblivion by
allofyou.

3:  All so: You.

Eye,
flung into head eternal
crush oubliette,
un-ask for "oh-so-very helpful hints" like:
"arms play clever covers of
love exhaustion."

I,
distort social facade,
cleanse selfish-center with
deep magenta neurosis,
then,
yellow ochre solace.

Eye,
illuminate with color that tortured
love-shaped heart of aluminum tin.
"Foiled nevermore!"
I once, twice screamed sadly,
subliminally certain of who was next

i
n

l
i
n
e

to snatch the remaining life from
my one and ornery,
lovely
apparatus.