3.19.2012
3.18.2012
3.13.2012
WHAT’S THE CAPITAL CITY OF ECUADOR?
I stopped speaking in my wolf-den voice by the time
I was in college. The administrator poked at his keyboard, a
classic ectomorph,
Are you seeing Disney characters anywhere? No,
I can't even name one. The literature on underground bats has them
as a food source for bad children, who if you ask me are the
only worthwhile
children. I’d seen Jeremiah Johnson. Closer to respect than can
be imagined, the furs I wore. Shared blood over snow is an
intimacy, write that on your little screen. There were TeeVees
on walls.
I first tried a pompadour—you can see this wasn’t quite
working—but I wasn’t finding my new “you.” Number of dependents?
Roy Orbison. That made one. Take off those sunglasses the
professor told
me. I thought she wanted to see down to my soul. Incorrect!
I stopped speaking in my wolf-den voice by the time
I was in college. The administrator poked at his keyboard, a
Are you seeing Disney characters anywhere? No,
I can't even name one. The literature on underground bats has them
as a food source for bad children, who if you ask me are the
children. I’d seen Jeremiah Johnson. Closer to respect than can
be imagined, the furs I wore. Shared blood over snow is an
intimacy, write that on your little screen. There were TeeVees
I first tried a pompadour—you can see this wasn’t quite
working—but I wasn’t finding my new “you.” Number of dependents?
Roy Orbison. That made one. Take off those sunglasses the
me. I thought she wanted to see down to my soul. Incorrect!
3.12.2012
SAD FLOWERS
He's back-shot, black blood; you get the noon re-
port. It's divided into pieces--they aren't things. They
curve over
the wires. Hello, death in Africa, to you in your underwear.
Here's a blueprint of my pocket. When my face was wrapped
in muslin I could feel the dying animals, the places where they
left salt
in my brain. Child, animal, things burned: what memories of
these will I bring with me out of the grave. Everyone has to
deal with lint. I pick the stuff off my aloe plant, it flows up
out of
the baby's mouth and she's laughing like a dead Jazz Singer.
He's back-shot, black blood; you get the noon re-
port. It's divided into pieces--they aren't things. They
curve over
the wires. Hello, death in Africa, to you in your underwear.
Here's a blueprint of my pocket. When my face was wrapped
in muslin I could feel the dying animals, the places where they
left salt
in my brain. Child, animal, things burned: what memories of
these will I bring with me out of the grave. Everyone has to
deal with lint. I pick the stuff off my aloe plant, it flows up
out of
the baby's mouth and she's laughing like a dead Jazz Singer.
3.11.2012
NO TOYS
Last night the moon
Wavered. The arithmetic
Of the deep ever-
Lasting. Or how much
Fun will we have
Tomorrow? Remote
Controlled boats are
What to me? They
Just fuck up the bird's
Patterns. My anti-fantasy
Lodges one in the cattails.
That's right. I might take
Your football away if
You kick it into my yard. I
Might kick it over the river
Toward the face of the
Wavering moon some night.
I'm a fool. I'll pay
Almost anything to
Charter a fishing boat.
It's just a matter of scale?
By the age of ten I'd not be caught
Dead in the company of anything an adult
Might mistake for a toy . . .
Last night the moon
Wavered. The arithmetic
Of the deep ever-
Lasting. Or how much
Fun will we have
Tomorrow? Remote
Controlled boats are
What to me? They
Just fuck up the bird's
Patterns. My anti-fantasy
Lodges one in the cattails.
That's right. I might take
Your football away if
You kick it into my yard. I
Might kick it over the river
Toward the face of the
Wavering moon some night.
I'm a fool. I'll pay
Almost anything to
Charter a fishing boat.
It's just a matter of scale?
By the age of ten I'd not be caught
Dead in the company of anything an adult
Might mistake for a toy . . .
3.10.2012
3.08.2012
BONESET, WRAPPED IN BANDAGES
It came insinuating itself up the stairway tower—
giant lonely great-hall where I trembled purposefully
between the
cries of atoms. You may surmise I have no idea what
I'm talking about. It's the slow heart. My cave in the fauna-
rich nursery, an australopith's tilted pelvis. I was never
be-tasseled,
rather looming up stairs like a moose thinking inwardly about
dark, deep water. Introversion is a celebration of being,
or else. Or else, I die smiling with you, sister. My white
skin under
hair, ridiculous narrative of the egg, until I pigment-out, sinking
into the cross-referenced strands of some evolutionary path,
too dumb to love it though. My color releases its secret . . .
It came insinuating itself up the stairway tower—
giant lonely great-hall where I trembled purposefully
between the
cries of atoms. You may surmise I have no idea what
I'm talking about. It's the slow heart. My cave in the fauna-
rich nursery, an australopith's tilted pelvis. I was never
be-tasseled,
rather looming up stairs like a moose thinking inwardly about
dark, deep water. Introversion is a celebration of being,
or else. Or else, I die smiling with you, sister. My white
skin under
hair, ridiculous narrative of the egg, until I pigment-out, sinking
into the cross-referenced strands of some evolutionary path,
too dumb to love it though. My color releases its secret . . .
3.07.2012
2.27.2012
2.26.2012
A HEAT CONSTANT
It was even in the paper--officials turn solid
at room temperature. As youngsters we gasp through
the pain
of not knowing. In house after house the siblings die. The
mother eats candy while it snows outside. The floats that
appear are black crepe paper, the ones who slide under,
window blinds
making a maze over the neighbor girl's face. Here are
some tips for burning alive. The wind crawls down the
telephone lines and into your bedroom full of sapphires.
It was even in the paper--officials turn solid
at room temperature. As youngsters we gasp through
the pain
of not knowing. In house after house the siblings die. The
mother eats candy while it snows outside. The floats that
appear are black crepe paper, the ones who slide under,
window blinds
making a maze over the neighbor girl's face. Here are
some tips for burning alive. The wind crawls down the
telephone lines and into your bedroom full of sapphires.
2.23.2012
WE HAD SIMPLY CROSSED OVER
It don't seem exactly humane . . . and so what is he doing now?
That was the story, eye patch, like swallowing the exhaust
coming out
of a Kawasaki motorcycle. Like a generator misfiring in the
basement, the rain outside, five bored prisoners. I'd already burned
myself on the baffle. Meanwhile at the Saint Louis Zoo, What the
hell were
they crying about? The children ran for shelter, a city sweltering
in the heat. My argument was Cutter and Bone. But this was
only my threshold, blind in one eye now--how many lifetimes have
you begged
let God forgive you? My family tree and how it is intertwined
with the Falstaff Brewing Corporation. I was standing with friends
in front of an Aldabra tortoise. I'll pay for dinner. I felt like I was
still swaying
in that fucking arch. Coal was buried in my eye, and it was talking
It don't seem exactly humane . . . and so what is he doing now?
That was the story, eye patch, like swallowing the exhaust
coming out
of a Kawasaki motorcycle. Like a generator misfiring in the
basement, the rain outside, five bored prisoners. I'd already burned
myself on the baffle. Meanwhile at the Saint Louis Zoo, What the
hell were
they crying about? The children ran for shelter, a city sweltering
in the heat. My argument was Cutter and Bone. But this was
only my threshold, blind in one eye now--how many lifetimes have
you begged
let God forgive you? My family tree and how it is intertwined
with the Falstaff Brewing Corporation. I was standing with friends
in front of an Aldabra tortoise. I'll pay for dinner. I felt like I was
still swaying
in that fucking arch. Coal was buried in my eye, and it was talking
2.09.2012
2.05.2012
2.04.2012
2.03.2012
2.02.2012
2.01.2012
1.30.2012
1.29.2012
1.27.2012
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