Talisman: A Journal of Contemporary Poetry and Poetics
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Charles Borkhuis

TRUTH SERUM
 
 
 
                                    1
 
 
 
waiting for the click to set me straight
the needle’s eye slow drips centuries
on a glass floor I’m down there
steam rising off my elevator shoes
head over heels in the circuitry
my mouth swings on a rusty hinge
abandoned to the crosscurrents of words
as if talking on pins and needles
might make it true
 
the outcast dimension signs in
on a thin blue line across my lips
recorder on a night crawl
taking it all down in ghost babble
have I failed to report myself
missing in the chair
a permanent who’s there
 
no doubt there are oceans of self
in each wave but not a drop to drink
sidling up to the zero-hour
we are playing dark horse roulette
on a spinning wheel
please take my phantom limb
tap into the mystic who done it
 
I can only say more than I know
fake narratives that seem real
who’s who in the edited ending
am I the spy and you the double agent
or the reverse back of my mind
who goes there where lover and gunman
tango into the wee hours
 
lay down your weapons
go belly up to the hemorrhaging sky 
balloon heart I am coming on the rocks below
fallen upon the nightly shores of forgetting
where I lay my life on the line
for the truth that will set us free
but not so fast not so fast
 
no one stays in the same skin for long
feather up to the flame
call it a personal defect
but I have eyes in the back of your head
 
 
                                    2
 
 
who’s speaking and who’s dreaming
reversal and contradiction at the core 
meaning forks into multiple readings
choose one to build a life on
 
smoke rises from an inborn city
step out on a windy ledge 
and stare down at the multitudes
coming and going in their emperor’s clothes
learn to live with the slippage
he who embraces the loved one in a rowboat
and he who enters the grocery store
with a bag over his head 
faceless to the end give me all you’re worth
spread it out for the world to see
transparency and its twin the cover up
just a nursery rhyme away from ending it all
 
sorry but I’m attached
to a portable wrecking machine
they laughingly call the self
stand up and become holy for once
shudder in the dappled wonder
that you might just be another me
living in a universe of musical chairs
 
the ghost inside you is listening
to every word you say
not that it cares
or it cares too much
one can never tell the difference
distance extended indefinitely
from parent to child one word
to the next I hear fragments signaling
through the braces in my teeth
 
the distance unspoken
I remain slap-happy to each
turn of phrase each off-kilter
quasi-accidental slip of the tongue
exposing a linguistic hiding place
where one slides under the radar
 
here lies a partly rubbed out
phantom gaze squinting
through truth’s delicate armor
mirror buried in a quark of emotion
with a bow tied around it
special delivery from the void
to you of little faith
 
stand up and dance happy infinite laughter
exhaustion before the impossible
who said death comes to nothing
the outsider within watches silently
I can only say more than I know
which is too much and never enough
 
 

HAVE I SAID IT
 
 
name I told you tell us again
show him the pictures
is that you I told you
tell us again who’s that
 
have I broken said it
backwards or forwards
sideways then start again
as if I knew
 
what was said
who goes there
a side of sleep sliding off a crack
darkness descends
 
a breeze blows the leaves
forwards and back
we’re looking for a name
huddled among the others
 
lined up against a wall
the disappeared
dark within the letters
syllable to say who goes there
 
bend into broken words
names face forward
tell us again
show him the pictures
 
rain on the list
bleeds one into another
a schoolboy somewhere
mumbles a sin
 
slipped between
others on a plate
assorted goodies
for priestly consumption
 
let us cut to the chase
wafer on the tongue
a body swallowed whole
leaves no trace
 
confession anyone
voice behind the sliding door
say again backwards then
forwards if

time under lip  
come again a piece
a little thing
of no consequence
 
one among many
an accident I am
a word off
fragment under eraser
 
is that you
I told you tell us again
show him the pictures
who’s that in the hat
 
the one next to him and the other
second to the left bottom row
I told you all I know
repetition makes the heart
 
grow fonder
whisper into god’s ear
the inquisitor’s voiceover
which one how many
 
have you ever been
have I said it
there between the others
is that you go back say it again
 
who goes there
a body dropped overboard
what’s in a name
free to roam the depths
 
head in a bag hung
upside down
a few moments
before water
 
pours through the cloth
sublime visitation
I told you tell us again
dunking for names
 
in what dimension
unnumbered chamber
hides
the human heart
 
headless decent
through what melting
city of wax
tell us again
 
eat at the hand
of the ripple master
comes a knock
mother
 
in a black hood
lifts the top off
my head
who’s talking now
 
and now I told you
tell us again
devil in the details
what’s left out
 
grows arms and legs
a missing face
crowded minutes
return
 
what’s in a name
say it again
who’s that in the hat
as god is my witness
 
and that
show him the pictures
a talking horse’s head
on a spike
 
start again
have I broken said it
give it up
meet your maker
 
father confessor
on the other side before
the sliding door
closes
 
which one how many
have you ever seen
a brain sizzle
burning hair off a rose
 
save yourself
what’s in a name
backwards or forwards
sideways then
 
start again
we’ve got all night
the current will find you
between jagged
 
crisscrossing stars
sudden illumination
letters etched
across your face
 
do you know
what we’re going to do to you
what’s in a name
shall we attach the wires
 
save yourself
have I said it who was it
escaped
under my breath