Unfuck Us All

1.
unfuck the cockeye-hinged door
paint scabbed as an old birch
torso the house that people
forgot to live in the house only the
crude dead remember with their minds
of torn sheets, set the windows again wide
with light in which the curtains again shall
come to roost dovelike unannounced
and return the clatter of dishes at suppertime
the fork dropped to ting like a bell
the full stomach, the horseshoe over
the leaning sill righted so that it can run
on hooves, forever
2.
also unfuck the trees of which we
made pencils and toilet paper
with which to write and wipe away
or burned in a pyromaniacal binge
let the ash and splinters transmigrate
to heartwood, the old leaves sail
from the ground by gravity delinquent
to adorn branch tip delicately as bee-tongues
let each bough at last reach its final
wish, to snag a star in its trellises like
a dragonfly caught in hair
let the trees, the tall green sea of them
climb over this old earth like slow
contortionists and crush the metallurgy
of unreason comparatively as St John
was promised by a stern God but
altogether in a different way
3.
unfuck the bulleted schools
the red-bloomed chalkboards
resurrect the floor splattered
unintelligibly in strawberry milk
or if you will in brains (there are no good ways
to say certain things, drink your milk fellow
countrymen, eat your strawberries
by the pint), realign the awkwardly
scattered lunchboxes, let blood flow
back into the body’s deflated carton
let the students drift backwardly
into the orderly desks in measurable
rows with measurable limbs
and grades, let the yellow tape fall
from doorways and the alphabet
return to order: the pointy tent of the A
preceding the B of breasts
which contain hearts that in turn
necessitate the H and so forth
the Z at the end like a lightningrod
the O buffered in the middle
like a tender egg laid down in a safe sea
. . .but also, and for good measure, unfuck
the fucker who shot
for he is Most Fucked Of All, salvage his
square head from the barren shoals of
claustrophobic civilization, lift him
like a gull, give him a meadow, a kiss
he is deserving I say but if you do not
agree cast him like a match
into the orange eye of the sun
which, beyond madness, loves
everything it incinerates
even death.
4.
unfuck the catastrophic word
the devil-made slander that
ate at the table and stole
the butter knives sharpening
them in secret restrooms
wallpapered in Russian tabloids
and secondhand art, replete
and out of toilet paper
and while at it
unfuck the media-addled
mind, throttle jammed on serotonin
fattened to obesity on Likes and Friends
let the Void replace them with
the wholesale tenderness of nothing
and the silent sails of the night
which go nowhere and can’t be
seen even by the clairvoyant
let the mind empty like a syringe
and go hungry like a beggar
savant, door to door searching
for real bread and real water
eschewing saccharine and
styrofoam-like holy wafers
5.
and so on with such lists.
but let the dead pass on
uninterrupted and let the dying
do their due diligence
of dying and the sorrowful
their due diligence of tears
for though the sky may be
mended by the ozone needle
threaded in azure and hummingbirds
and the ravaged be made whole by
the vindicating light of repurposed
cathedrals, not everything should
be without suffering
old friend who comes to hug us
at midnight so that we dream
fitfully a litany of reversals
lost on the road of all restful
sleep