It's this hum that starts in me
that has to get out
that starts generating
feelings that sound
like words as
my back arches
shoulders stretch spasm
pulling my neck in
and then I type
and stare
spent

A few small words
find their way
through thought
land nettled
time caught

This hand holds that hand
that hand holds this hand
in a constant encircling
this is wringing our hands

they've taken our last cover
we are exposed to the sky
backing, scrambling uselessly
we close our eyes waiting

the crack of the bolt stuns us
and then in darkness
no way to look away
freeze feeling hot breath

Stretch the universe to fit
over your mind or genitalia
unless they're the same
then don't bother

Fit the cosmos to what comforts you
unless of course that's bathtub gin
You've just got to agree coming in
as going out is imaginary portrayal

of waves incongruent with themselves
crashing in the tank defined by our
coming in and reflecting upon fate
who laughs with popcorn

It takes a
significant number
of individuals
to create this illusion
of me
one of us
adjusts our glasses

These lines
bare







stop
here?

Yes
a
white
out
day



Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

If this is hilarious
or a low water mark

4 year old Girl Scout cookies
1/2 box down fast slam

the Scify channel has a real history
Of fiction on

and i am made up
of cookies from the basement

who've surrendered
to my sharp teeth

"you could be masquerading"
as what
a voluntary ******' poet
my rhyme will destroy you
so you're safe

too bad you insist
on not feeling safe
to the point of paralysis

Still not sure
why that
bubbles forward
oh my need

Not sure
about u
mostly

How to write
a reader
scanning

to here
thinking " I don't know"
that space
really

Not sure
in this space between you
and me

how to not be what
you want
wanting

Give me
Gimme

Lines run don't they?
A bowling alley of hope
with fearfull
multicolor *****


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

I can't find it
my connection
dis

connec...ting ing
I can't find
restraint

rest aint
here
con quicksand

gallons of wine
over time
throw out the bottles

time to open
gropen
agin

sink ing a line
being a fish
gulping

i apologize
upon re
read

The tilt moves
and I am leaning
down again
I spin myself
right roun' or
some such thing
and the lean in
I feel it like
it smashes
not this time
my foreleg 'tracts
and springs

You've no use
for me
Your hand travels
over

Your eyes flail
to away
Your hands wish
to click

for i smell foul
of letters
fetid with lyric
and lie

Can you help me get out of here, please
please
             won't let me
leave

I don't understand why I am here, please
wheeze
              won't let me
breathe

Now for Something Completely Different
I looked under your scalp
Saw what you really want to do
It is so **** dumb
And so absolutely Common Place
And you are so terrified
You are weird
And everybody
Will laugh at you
We won't
We're too busy
Worrying
The same
Stupid ******* thing

I'm not enjoying these wonderful Gifts of life
Like we should

be brilliant
Enjoy your life

**** all


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

Now I am
Dancing
Now I am
Prancing
Sorry for that'n

Now I am
Unfattin'
Sorry here too

Now I am
self-important
rhymes
Herbal crimes

Now I am
Now-ing
Whatever
that is

Bing oh
Being
Beautiful

Now is a wave
sloshing

in some giant tub
filled with teenager

stars
I've been stretched

they say
on this passing

bobbers
and bait

for the experience
of basking

in this radiation
with a stiff drink

I say heeaaahhh
crash laughing

in your mind


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

And live


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

What are the heartstrings?
How are they pulled?
What escapes
when you don't?

This fornication with
the syllables of time

carved instances of you
smoke tomorrow

right now dragged out
flaky of nonsense
sings in my afternoon
of not now later

I'm trying to have
a conversation
with you
while undergoing
self administered
electro-shock therapy
I think I will be
elucidated morely
by the nexxxxxxxt
oh helloly

I ate the crumbley matter
I ain't
adjacent to
in shame

all those
nearby
tilts
covering

unkempt hair
glasses
timepieces
gone awry

til now
beaching
inland edge
up sharp

i've cut
into
tomorrow
sweet like

living in a room
of outbound bullets
of course I want
you to be safe
I kid of course
duck duck ghost
let's play the game
we love the most

I am the interval
like that between
single tasty notes
on your fav
I am the interval
between you
and your sounding
for your own fav
in your sea
uncertain
that you even have one
I am the interval
skipt
hastily
that "lava" again lol
flowing glowing
close your eyes
see rivulets of burn
feel the infrared
jump
I am the interval
the step down unit
for your mouse self
'at wants ascension
back here
I am the interval
that is the basic
"that's different"
darkly drawn
so that looks lit
take a sip
my dark nub
rubs most out
I am only the in-between
certain
like a hard tool
I am the interval
I create
to infinitely delay
undelayable
nope not gonna
go there

You're convinced
they did something to you

You're convinced
You ate a sandwich

It's the speed of light
that tells all the lies

Reacts angrily
to darkness' edge

Convinces all of us
that daylight

Illuminates something
if you have good coffee

I am under the standing
of your legs

And that darkness sought
before light explodes

remainders
of division
ill fitting
and left
out
digits
countless

exasperated
likenesses of
of the neatly
included sets
fretting
aside
downcast

scrambling back
to the pool
pick me pick me
say the tines
and the hum
ensues

Nuts upon which to wrench
this one looser, this one tighter, ah
a field of these happily adjustables
spread out reflecting in some morning
oblique light enough to prevent focus
rows of shining facets wanting turned
and I'm the one to turn them I say

I've got a vibe
I've got an energy source

Thrumming
and humming
and summing

Additive waves
helloing
in ever higher
notes

Letting them run
through
me

No panic no friction
and they do not stretch me out

Clenching on time
ages you fiercely

Upstream and downstream
equally wet

Dealing the difference
'twixt analogs 'n' ions

I am time
hardening

into now
that fragile all

and I am not
my mind
on some absent minded
tether
skittering vaguely
about what appears to be
my actual life
partially oaring
itself
to sure



Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

Sorry bout all this poetry
such a rough approximation
ungainly and all
I have a dangerous
postulation
that I am here
only here
to entertain you
this is dangerous to me
as i am not very
and reluctant
to improve

I and my wine
have been working
on some lines

you might know
the feeling
short the reeling

minding unwinding
raveling a threadbare
throw lay down and go

on this beach
an ocean
crash

It's an evening of coldness
Of course it's offset with inebriants
******* question
Unless of course you are
One of them

Ode to one of them
*******

I'll close the window
Get under the blankets
Giggle with delight in the cold sheets
snort

Rue this
wrong
But the cold sheets win
my cheeks

involuntarily smile


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

Ode to the crumbled
chips
I'm up to my wrist
to get my fingers
on you
and your broken friends

and the little ones
you are protecting
have me
up to my elbow
in no mercy

I tilt back
denouement
poured down
my gullet
sleeve roughly
dragged 'cross
mouth belch
their salty
stink
look away





Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

Pour down
onto yourself
your weight
of never

reach lyrically
into yourself
don't wait
for ever

clever means
meanings
mints of lines
opined quickly
disposed of by
anxious fingers

stopped and started
in their franticness
in their scramble
to letter the empty line
escape the time
owed elsewhere

I've just watched poetry
explode on someone's face
it went, literally,
all over the place

I have to consider
I thought what

I understood to be
expected

I saw old actors
and turned away

It will be better
I felt assured

I'm giving lessons
in taking lessons
I'm lecturing
on listening
I'm telling everyone
I know
about solitude
and how I just
want to be
left alone
whilst secretly hoping
you'll ignore
my protestations
and keep me company
while I'm something
like fake grumpiness
going on and on about being
another thing
like real happiness
that I don't trust

I deleted these great lines
they were the best ever
you would have agreed

Dude, I'm propaganda
my mother made me up
and I made this up

first, I made you up
that was the easy part
searching reader

and now you think
might even insist
you actually exist

independent of
the verse
mutually serial

abnegation smashup
abort move on
this isn't on

I went to say
I've drunk myself
calm and creative
when the side of my head
caved in
I drank a glass of water
to re-inflate it
does it seem

This current
this hellacious
flow
slow it down
build it up
let it go
pull it down
onto you
crush you
very much
and spin

Reach for you
with this compression
pulling on
this look away
that isn't look away
against a hold back
that is a come on
of curved space time
on a thigh slipping

The lipped and smeared glass beckoned
brazenly
sauces fingered over red
what do they say
flavors blending conspicuously
rich

i say
rich
and I sip away at this submarine
blue and cool coral in the distance
under sun light blading-in warmth
like carved happiness suddenly
uncovered will you look
at that

i drain it down
hold while i open another thanks
and i recognize the homage
in reluctance recalcitrance even
words of ground glass
grin out

on this plain
these steppes swept
out
lightly switched off life
drifts on here

This leathery bag of us in time
seems misshapen as if events
made lumps
and tears made hollows
so what if it's not an analogy
not an imaginary you
these small perturbations
read in allowed reverberation
while you sound for harmony
or probably confirmation
and a little ride through
a modest interval being
wishful of spasms

Scribblers, whether fitting to form
and rhythm
or stalking the formless,
stacking the pretty to be seen
or shredding to see all
clamber to some space
to feel safe to flower
or attempt
or reject
or all

and if
from this effort
another takes offense

that one should pay
the poet's rent
for showing you the extent
of your ego's bent

for holding harm
from another's pen
thoughts that swarm
only in your ken

This shade of nothing
i own
have staked out
as my own

i'm sure its value
has grown
since buying it
with a loan

indistinguishable
i've shown
from top brands
of alone

i'd so call you 'bout
your tone
reading in
trombone

wah wah wah ahhAhaa
so blown
all these notes
i've sown

Just a second
I tried to get
away
there
no one knows
when we leave
our now
as if

could I
not talk
to your
puppet
mine is
out of sorts
so it's me
spinning
the dials

I want a
haberdashery
to appear
to keep mine
well dressed
while i try
to change
everything
routinely

and that
easily
I am
away
writing
would be
clever shims
to keep
the spacing

I have
a video
of a filmstrip
of some
pictures
taken
out of focus
and it's clear
right

I'm not
armed
or adequately
checked
for being
a nuisance
and so remain
hopeful
of getting
back to you
now

The legend goes
the old poet
blind and frail
recites a verse
and something
coalesces wet
on my face
a knowing
flowing down
to a curse

I am restless
in this memory
unfolding now
or is it
enfolding now

Seeking restful
ground to lay upon
to arise from high
in air and light arriving
in sounds of birds
come awake

Cajoling feathers
into order
i am reordered
aligned on spines
like grass in wind

i imagine rasping
of a billion blades
green edges catch
and release
this little sound

I wish I was only
a reflection of you
but that
cannot be true
as I am
a confection of you
sweet i found
my way out
without insulting
you although a
confusion of you
without a particle-y
contusion of you
remains as a simple
infusation of you
slowed at cessation
the old soft shoe

If i knew
who i was talking to
i would know what to say

you are talking
to yourself
oh

I always learn something
when I hang out
with the elderly
*******
the elderly

I am squishing
'neath 'neath
thinking
squishing i say
as if
*** if
I am imaginary
and my imaginary me
is squishing 'neath
all the things in
my head

squishing against
thoughts
those ****** things
again

now they are
smaller

i guffaw


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis

I hear a guitar
and have a feeling
more than

this tone entwines
me
in chills

an envelope
sultry
beckons

i sing with a feeling
am sung
out

watercolor dabbed
spreading past wait
beautiful

running color
insisting on
filling texture

Oh How I want to be studied
like some past lyrical strut
like some cabalistic nut
a florid but productive ****
parsed up the ****
scenting no farce
sorry its my sparse
sense of poetry
at play

The joy
Of feeling the love
And acceptance
Of a beautiful woman

Roots me
Riots me
Ruins me
Rights me
Rocks me

And my body sings
me to sleep