Slightly, brightly
Amarillo heavens, whispered
Lather,
Lavender clouds, and your
Butterfly belly button
Soapy on the car hood. I
Cast my brain's map wide
And narrow.
I can't make time--one thousand
Years feels like one day; one heart--
A desert of sand while wind
Pushes in violet patterns.
those
Spots on your eyes
Never so warm--cinnamon.
And you know how I'd stir
Your coffee.

my
intestines tighten
the patient begging
parts
the tears
how I do
grow wet
leavening

I feel your beads
pressed against my
neck
106 prayers lifted
106 left
in the ***** laundry
a coconut scent
a play on words and
your face buried
into mine
even at midnight
the union tracks
flick
and I stand
bedazzled by
the lightning
shade
you offer
a moth to flame
a boat to ocean
a joyous pain
cut up
cut up
cut up
but I wouldn’t leave
my blood
behind
for
anything

Words long as
The sea
You are above
Every
Articulate
Aspect

meaning
I can hear you
anchor that holds us
down
a second
I lost you
complete
fire
pierced
meaning
I am light
a flotation of end
a memory of when I was
four
a rise and you
the nebula in which
I
speck
meaning
a fullness
an overflow
a mist of brown and
wave
the hand which I
have writ
the looseness of your
outline
meaning
all the sheets
smooth and cupped
the ribbons around
the slight chip
rainbow
meaning
the sketch
and you
a prayer
I
break

once there was an astrologer
who said
I predict universal pangs but
no big bangs
but you can be
my keeper
this afternoon
written in the stars
a kick here
a punch there
a hug on the bridge
are you being ****
or are you having
a stroke?
guts like a hawk
pure chutzpah and
peanut butter
cookies
a karma pig or
comma
depending which way
you look
me
half dog
you
half god
dess
Nostradamus
pinching our lungs together
a ******* frisee
a passion flower
euphoria
a wave of space
surrounding
the sun
a big middle
finger
a glisten and the
midday present
as you
squint
and I try to catch a little
piece

a boy looks at me
on the train
and I exit
a blister of electric through
the tracks
my shoes
lightning struck
by blueberry muffins
I run
the cold
40 degree cloud
then a thought of you
I smile
a frozen broke in
hollies

wheat in color
a tan adobe
almost red
a genderless
bone
hollow and
ossified
I donate this
day to you
I enmesh
my soul
into the air
the harvest
all the while
standing
still

rain
little girl
rain with
hair
rain until
the sun chokes
rain with
your dis-attuned nails
rain
running Pisces through
my head
rain
another word called
rain for
some mallards
rain on
boy
rain
rabid 90’s hip hop
we listen while driving
to the theatre
rain pounding
in the car
in the eyes
rain
the sky seems to
penetrate
my car’s roof
and this poem
breaks through
water uprising
your grey hat
your almonds
and my chin
rain
I wish I could make it
for you
nightingale
I wish I could hear your
breath
in the morning

the waiting of
knick knack paddy whack
the toxic
neurotransmitters
the corrosion
of my 7th branch
the thought of
the reality of
sometimes lonely
on a little
planet
every *****
thing
evaporated
water
you draw me
your hand
covered in
lyrics
a limerick of knuckles
a sometimes waiting
patiently
a sometimes never
to come

I wish I could find
Another
Word
One plucked from a
Chicken or
Snagged to a line
But all I have is
Drift
You
Laughing
Like a drunken
Gondolier
This momentous
Rise of horns
And the little
Spittles of foam
That froth at
Our legs
The sea
Creates you
A scarf
And you turn
To look at me
Your eyes
Drifting
Through the notes
Around me
Sweet
Music
Who are you
If not mine
To keep

I’m the perm of a
Poet
I can choke
I can breathe
I can drink a cup of coffee
And you
Are a murmuration
A flock of afternoon
midnight
I will let your
Black mass love me
However
However
However
It can
I’m reaching for you
Little bird
Take me with your arrow
The streets of this
Pure piano
And I introduce the yowling
Trumpet
The dead skin on
my back
Flecks with the quiver
Of flying with you
By choice

My weapon is our memory
Is a  language of the undead
Alive
To the tuning base
And the clock ticks to
Midnight as
We kiss

the birds sifting through
the clouds
there is no chance
of rain
only sun
and the rarefaction of
wings against
molecules
ah
the simple things
when the morning is quiet
and I see
an imagined crane
perched on a branch
in the lake
we used to walk
around
the benches we used to
sit on
the black mist
that sometimes sits
around our
feet like a dog
we are not maquettes
but sculpted
made of marble
the stone birds sailing
overhead
the toy boats
the water
the lack of tears
and the machinery it takes
for me to say
*fly, fear. fly.
bring home my birdie.

Xmas
I forget to breathe
and choke
while looking at my hands
and I realize I am
quite vain
a popstar
basking in hazardry
the snow you are meant
to see
You don’t know me
until
You go inside
and we kiss hands coming
out of the dark
you don’t know me until
the moment I ask you
to believe
there will be an Xmas when
the ice cracks blue
and I am not thinking
my imagination of us
old and riding a public bus
sliding down the glass
defying gorilla tape
I can’t even stop
half of myself
and know
Pain
Pain
Pain
Yes to
Love
Love
Love

*
* *
     *
* *
(snow falls)

You are bold
the inspiring queen
of Fs and
As
and I
a crafty lizard
this christmas mug
from which you drink
these scissors with
which I shred
words
our stories all
come together
on top
of a golden rose
24 carat
sampled with
my teeth
secured
in my bedroom
all of it
is yours
and
the last coin
evens
my luck

You look
light into my
dreams
a whole mind
under this
ocean-tango
the
exit sign
the scents
entwined
ascending
your head
my neck
the pulse of you
sticks
burns
of fire
us
a
twizzler
of spirit
entering
with
transparency

cedar and gold
the kiss of flakes
little glaciers
melt in canoed-orbs
these footsteps tracking along
the era of winter
some birds
still sing
and I shake
in trepidation
I
little leaf
molding
peat and whiskey
keeps me warm
your cedar and gold
along a fire crackles
and I move in
the sweater
tight
the jean jacket
50’s boy
and laughter at
the weather
closer and
closer
still

I ain’t waiting in the dark no more
I ain’t proud
I just want to hold you

Little lashes
Bopping on heads
Off goes one
In drool and
Headphones
The big green monster
The mousey placemat
The heavy breathing of congestion
The one lullaby
The one mother
Your little boy world
I love him through  
You

I feel the fire
the tips of
honeylocust
the change
to winter
perched
on the hurt
we’ve been through
singing like
every
love bird
should

let go, brother
let go of your forest
your ocean spray
your frantic
manic
tendencies
the ability to wipe it all away
lost somewhere in the wind
let go of your rain
let go of your shaky hands
and hold your pencil straight
with your teeth
don’t fret, forest
don’t burn, brother
hold
hold tight
the hallucinations of what swims
a polished stone skipping
in one endless encephalon cycle
fogged and
fogged again
the forest smokes
and the rain to put it out wanes
steam

I’m sorry you have to see me like this
all stinky and bruised
love, these thoughts torture me like this pie
it’s made with red corn syrup
it reminds me of your blood
I see underneath your skin
to your almond eyes shimmering
to your beating heart somewhere in Colorado
lord, how I love you
lord, how life is a road trip through hell sometimes
how we end up in rooms with pink noise
but how?
how does love end in places where no one wants to go?
where no one lives
where pie taste like blood
and you are pale, grief-stricken
almost crying
I see how things are
I see how I am a man destined to eat the air you left behind
you, perfumed with thoughts of me and I beat because of it
you, tortured by my spirit
you, half my soul. don’t run away just yet
wait until I finish my pie and fall over, flushed.

let this be proof that on day
***
I am alive
and kicking
with nothing but a
caffeine headache
and a good
twenty days of
September
in my back pocket
but now
the cross breeze
comes and
I lament the past four
autumns
how they left me
cold
broken
and seeing women jump
off buildings
God!
Sovereign soldier!
Sinner!
Saint!
let me live more than
20 days
I am a good person
I only **** when asked
I eat spaghetti with a fork
and spoon
I once tried to jump off
a cliff
but that was then
and this is now
and the breeze is as cold
as winter
don’t think that I ever enjoyed this
time with you
don’t think that I won’t ever
try that again
I promise I won’t float
in the air
no
not this time

I wanted you
to be an expression
this mirror
of what I see
the need to run awry
barefooted
meandering through
fountains
shooting
shooting
shooting
how I feel
into the sky-confused
particles
I supposed it is your best
to lay me down
in this bed of
I
I
I
don’t want you
to leave
the edge of this
bare
unscathed
still
shining
in the high
blue
trapped and
entangled
suffused
duplexed and
flexing
oh lord
leaving
leaving
leaving
in the eve of this
summertime

the tiles that encompass me
are falling like dominos
this is blackness at its zenith and
I have a coneful
lucky me
it’s like the summer of ‘96
all over again
and my friend’s dad jumped
in front of a coal train
we ate ice cream that day
in the dank Minnesotan heat
everyone was dripping
the mosquitoes were flocking in
green cloud
ignite
flame
ignite
and the crunch of bones
like this water falling on my shoulders
wash
wash
again
the sticky syrup from my chin and
poor Dane’s pants smell and there is
**** pooling at his ankles
enjoy this chocolate-dipped cone
or possibly this one with
patriotic sprinkles
no
I think I’ll pass
I’m watching my ten-year-old figure
you see this paunch?
it is my heart
it is so fat and ugly
take it from me, god
enjoy it on top of your
sundae
I always looked better red-chested
anyway

when you’re depressed you can get people
to mix you Arnold Palmers
or even
John Dalys
if you ask nicely
then you can get drunk
without anyone giving you ****
because all good depressed people
drown their grief with *****
and all good depressed people
die silently in doleful cloud
without drawing attention from
burping too loudly
or collapsing on a street corner
no
pain should be silent
with a tall glass of sweetened tea
a couple shots of *****
and a pencil writing furiously
the last thoughts
the last rights
the stencil of the moon
because all that will be left will be
a memory of you
standing naked in the mall screaming
I love you John Daly!!! Take me with you!!!
unfortunately
John Daly isn’t god
and he can’t zap
you from this earth
no matter how much you scream
you will always be a ghost on fire
drunk and afraid
wailing through the atmosphere
like a cat being held by its tail
you
the definition of good depressed people

oh my sister,
there are 77 dreams
I wrote in a journal
there is a glass of water I left
on some patio
there is a box of wisdom
I buried at a dusty crossroad
there is a beach where you are
I can see you in the waves
the razzle of the sand
like a billion speckled stars
and the horizon—black galaxy
next time I see you
you’ll be tan
like Cary Grant
but alive
and without the baby turtles
I asked for
I’ll ask how it went
and you’ll say
like a book
like a dream
like a starfish
are there even starfish
where you are?
if there are, please don’t
eat them
it would hurt your mouth
until then
look at the sun
she is beautiful—even I
a wannabe recluse poet
can appreciate nature
through my window

Dewy

rest, girl
rest, mother
rest, red disco queen

rest, white willow singing
rest, wind chimes
rest, redbone dog

rest, black sky
rest, yellow moon
rest, opaque stars

rest, *** on stovetop
rest, toes cracking
rest, boy typing

rest, sister
rest, child
rest, soul

rest

the sun machine
is coming down

rest

the children are
watching fire

rest

the thunder is born
with the night

rest

you too will know me,
sister
you will catch my wind
it smells of

tea tree oil

my brain is a magnet
attracting itself to you
and my heart is a wrench
fixing the toilet
these incantations to raise
you up
these words to make you holy
have me on my knees
with the ****-mucked tiles
but I wouldn’t change
any of it
no
I’d do anything for you
my soul will split
at the rack before
I ever mutter a word
love
how dare I!
I thought I was better
I thought I could look
without touching
speak without breathing
feel without loving
disaster
fortuitous
storm of color
spray me red
splay me naked
for the world to see
my fingers are inspired
to write a friend
in history
in my heart
forever

the artistry in you
snapping bubbles
through your hair
resting feather
the coop
the hibernation
every bit of your work
a statement of
beast and sacrifice
sweet mother
holy sister
undying scientist
like windows
like soil
in which life grows
good earth
good prairie
miles and miles of you
swaying in the wind
inculcated within me
this immortal passion
to watch you sprout life
to watch you work
to watch you love
a blissful void
a simple kiss
a wonderful purple
this incomprehensible galaxy
makes sense
when I see your eyes
scanning billions of blades
of grass
when I witness the tortuous
beauty
of your smile
when I hear you
read your poetry
it’s the gift of nature
unprecedented
unexpected
un-censored
unlike anything I’ve ever
experienced
your love
Jessica
your love
is ineffable

we are here
my shoulders grow weary
let’s save
love making
for the moon

this is my excavation to
the days coming along
running hands with laughter
throwing it down on the table
straight
flush
okay, cool

sister, these things don’t matter
when we’re twisting into the sun
with pants that are too short
the fountain rich with
iced chai
tangled with the peculiar
the beautiful
through these moments
I commend
our hearts for finding each other

love is always on the move
as sure as shoe shine
as mahogany
like timidity to relinquish
to let the universe take hold
and instill this emotion
into my body
fit it all in my heart
O, singer of love
fit it all in my heart
the knell
the reverberation
the cotton that lands
on your hair
the sunscreen stuck in my ear

we are a sketch of two travelers
sleeping under stars
the fire
finally dies down
the rapture of the universe
is overwhelming
everything flows
everyone is connected
and this music we hear
is constant
like gentle waters falling

this too, sister
makes my cane solemn
and I draw you in the sand
only to watch the tide
wash you next to me
the emotion
wrangled in English
simply means good
simply means
a full listen and
dear sister
because everything begins
and will be remembered always
as love

oh, I’ve waited so long
oh, this rain is cool upon
my brow
oh, the fighting
the strife
is steam rising
to the clouds and the pain
is finally over
this life has ceased
and we will begin anew
resting always
rest for the weak
the uninhabited
the tears and grief
because god knows
I love you
to the moon and
back
and god knows
I’ll find you next time
somewhere in the sea
or a dot upon the horizon
coming for me
coming for the first time
in this life

like red lion parts
crotch rocket
nut cup
anything done behind
a dumpster in the dark
yes, always
because you never liked how
light peeked through my thin
hair
or how I squinted
my eyes when I kissed you
“Just close them all the way
*******!!”
of course, I obliged
anything to keep you
away from your mother
anything to keep you
out of the garage
the sulfur smell
the demons in your
drinking marble
but god,
the vibration
the car peeling out
on the driveway and
“Here take this.”
all of me reminded you
of her
all of me
“Rest, darling. Rest.”
and every time the night
ended with unclothed gin
bedspreads like
forts and painted
walls
“Go **** youself.”
and all was lost
my body
my grief
10 pounds lighter
sweat soaked through
the carpet

this table in the
shade
these commune hippies
in the river
I wrote a poem
in my sleep
I looked at the mountains
and thought
rain
staccato
metronome
irrigation
and caps
melting
but enough of this
nature
let’s go back
to the concrete
mouth
where we walk
through the city
full of cake
bloated like
balloons
but rolling
because
cake doesn’t make
you float
no
cake only makes you
fat
the conversation turns
to the stench
there’s something dying
in the air
we leave
and roll joints
spot magnums
on tree branches
and think
only monkeys ****
in trees
and we would never
want to see
monkey ***
and ******?
no
we’d never try it
and the homeless man next to us
puts his spoon
away
but god
why do we sleep
when we just wake up?
why do we sleep
to dream
such ******-up
things
where celebrities
feed us salami in
back alleyways
and we see our mother
pooping on
world maps?
time rips of
lyrical grass
conductive smile
soap bubbles
these beautiful
dreamtime mornings
spent thinking of you
in playhouse mountains
like a child
you smile
like a friend
I offer you my hand
and we walk
to the white
together
bill withers is there
he is singing
in his yellow
turtleneck

my bones stick out
so much
I should feel good
like fat
like privilege
and power
but these things are fleeting
like my body
like the conversion I had
with you
I never meant to bring
up semi truck
cabs
artist’s sketch
tables
I only meant to move you
into the city
like a good friend
like a walk in the park
or a trust fall into
the pool
blues
I say
this is the strife they
sing about
and everyone loves it
and eats it with
peanuts
allergies?
no thank you.
green smoothies?
no thank you.
a good morning text?
well, maybe if I still
like you
if I can still stand
to be in the same room
with myself
to go bowling
to go on hikes
to meditate
all these things
I hate
and my bones
they’re smooth
and splinter when
bitten
and my bones
they glow like
uranium in the
mirror
good morning blow
good morning blush
good morning white boy
good morning,
Andrew

the river is
drinking it
sequins
blankets
the river runs past
hobos
unidentified
water fowl
two trolls
taking shelter under
the bridge
there’s conversation
in another language
fiendish brains connecting
fiendish yet
beautiful
thunder
tampons
a turtle
a naked boy
on the patio
rain
definitely
rain
unmatched
and the steam
coming from the
bridge
once there was a troll
on my face
and I swatted it
with a broom
but it came back
it came back
with you
laughter pounds
with the rain
laughter that wears
emotion like
skin
soft
elastic
still pink
bouncing
on the river’s surface
breaking
absorbed
sustenance for
the trolls
like fiends with faces
like minds with names
these two connect
with spark
and the rain
falls
the stillness under
nature’s
machinery

rain
mud and grass
common prayer
good weather
good people
art
and umbrella bags
because who wants to
get wet?
unless it’s with you
I could
I would
jump into the lake
for that rock
sew
cleanse
initials made in sharpie
and unclamp
we run
around the park
the afternoon surrounds us
the woman in the bikini
passes
and we laugh
iced tea
decaf coffee
cake without teeth
and that airstream camper
you always wanted
I could live in your
backyard
I could live somewhere
not here
in silver
prostrated
with my back to the
moon
like dead
like a mummy
like a mirror
and life would make sense
life would be beautiful
like this run
with perfect amounts of sweat
and conversation that runs
waves in the sand
and tells the squirrels
goodnight, tractor
see you tomorrow
and the land that billows
is dug up
and chewed
like a goodnight poem
this run with you
takes rest
on my soul
and I crack my ribs
to take the spring’s
twilight
aroma

every night I go to bed and say
“just don’t”
every night I lay awake and say
“just don’t”
because two negatives make a
positive right?
and maybe if I think about us
long and hard enough
I can jumpstart my
water circus
and finally ******* cry
for once
but *******, birdie
*******
this is supposed to be a friendship
poem
filled with all the good things
about us and I turned it
into me
I turned it ugly
again
but you
sister
are beautiful

I was born on this
back porch
I was born
with a lion in my
brain
I was born with
you, dear sister
300 years ago
in a little town
on the Italian
coast
we played
in the arms of
the Mediterranean
reaching to the light
we saw in each other
never clawing
sometimes crying
always found in the eyes
it was called
a miracle
it was called
unusual
it was thrown into
the fountain
like a rusted penny
dormant joy
buried in a wish
to find you again
and now
here we are
the breeze that died
300 years ago
warm
calm
and smelling of lilacs

I’m sorry
I was devouring you
with my eyes
your liturgical eighty-eight
your curves and robes
raising my alter
to this pinnacle of
worship
something holy
to take slowly
into my body
love, I wished
sibling love
not to be mistaken
for religion
for surgical jazz
for something else
love, sister
and my promise—
I won’t go to the pyre
without
you

sister
I have this glass in my
hand
ruminating
glass
glass
without
sparkle
I found it under
the park bench
where I lay
drooling on the
bricks
sister
this glass reminds me
of you
this glass reminds me
of earth
blood
the shade where
sand melted
love
sister
I cut so
smooth
so correct
is this blood
I spill
for
you

I try to cry
but I can’t
I mute my tv
so I can hear
the pain reverberating
from my nostrils
like I am being
clamped together
in the fetal position
until blood squirts
out my ears

I try to cry
but I can’t
I mute the dog by
giving her a bone
I mute the sun by
drawing the shades

I try to cry
but I can’t
this muted pain
it’s locked in the attic
deteriorating
I mute my neck by
taping it to the fan
I mute my breath
with my belt

roll down my eye
to my lips
I want to taste
this ******* stupid world
for myself

**** you, little
snake!
you beat me at my
own game!
but somehow I know
we’ll start again
and that time
I’ll win
and you’ll look
to the clouds
shake your fist
and declare
**** you,
Dewy!
you beat me at
your own game!
and you’ll meet
me at the finish line
and we’ll drink
lemonade
but until then
I’ll come in second
until then
I’ll look at the clouds
and think
of you
floating
with the sun
in your hands

spirit stone
the emotion caught
in your embrace
where my body
melts into yours
the perfect blend
of masculine
and feminine
bathing in a river
of marble
the waves are
disquieting
the ring is lost

spirit stone
don’t deceive me
with other women
don’t trick me with
the old man
at your feet
I do not give up
I slave away
I work morning
and night

spirit stone
everything has been
cut
hay, wheat, stone
the interlude in
the fields
the moment when
the ring is found
dawn and thought
watch me
dawn and thought
wear on my
countenance

spirit stone
the moving echo
of my own past
the waltz to come
the hidden
atelier
the moment when
the king falls in love
with his wife
with his child

spirit stone
I am muse
I am artist
I am caught like
a fly
an agnostic
queen who found
the ring
to fall in the arms
of man

spirit stone*
if you keep your
promise
we will grow
with the sky
if you keep your
promise
we will be in
paradise

Rodin: My love, I am on my knees facing your beautiful body. My mouth is drinking your fire. I ***** us in stone. We are indissoluble.

Camille: I am heaven and hell. I am goddess and fire. You are my chauvinistic art-boy concubine.

Rodin: My dear Camille, can you not see my love for you is rooted in passion not stone or clay or bronze? Can you not feel my tongue lapping at your feet?

Camille: Foolish man. My feet are broken. I walk over you on stumps.

Camille leaves for England. Rodin follows.

Camille: You are boring.

Rodin: My love, can you not see that I am in a depressed mood. Can you not see that your capriciousness plagues me?

Camille: I love another.

Rodin: How can you say these things to me? I give you my heart. I give you my soul. I give you my artistic genius!

Camille: You’re right. You are a genius.

Rodin: Shall I write us up a contract?

Camille: As long as you don’t touch me.

Camille and Rodin return to Paris separately.

Rodin: It has been written. I will mentor you, write you in newspapers, place you in museums, and find you buyers.

Camille: You will not love another? You will spurn all but my art?

Rodin: I will. And you will marry me in return.

Camille: …

Rodin: Is there something wrong, my love?

Camille: Can you not see I am being facetious?

Rodin: My dear, you are my flora and gaiety. You are my chisel and stone. You are my breath and lungs.

Camille: Learn how to breathe without me.

Camille exits. Rodin crumples at the feet of Eternelle Idole.

Rodin: What have I done wrong?

Camille re-enters, her hands caked in clay.

Camille: A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

Rodin: Shall I get the handcuffs?

Camille: No. The lion’s cage.

*Strong tides and wet fuchsias. Camille enters the cage forever.

sculpt me,
young artist
I am your brother
and you are gold
an effigy of
the purest
beauty
Giganti
Jeune Fille a la Gerbe
even your art
I take from you
out of
admiration
I find you
your svelte figure
bending into
the air
your hands
like magic
pricking my fingers
whatever you do
is mine
whichever way
your body turns
is my path
to confusion
ah
Camille
you are splendid
in your task
your caprice
molds the clay
your being
melts my
heart
let me sign
your body
for my
own

how could I have known
when I received that
final kiss
I would end up here
in the country side
the soul of
you
my sister

every morning I walk
through the wheat
hands grazing over
the bearded kernels
my heart, light
my body, transcended
the leaves inside
turning

oh! the joy it brings
to tell you
dear sister
that what lies beyond
isn’t made of
marble
but pure light
dancing
in its finest
colors

if only you were here
with me
I could save you
from the moment
I fell
I could teach you to
sculpt autumn
dear sister
I could teach you
to sculpt love as it is
without
clay

my dear Cosette,
why did you fall?
why didn’t you pick
yourself back up?

I saw you
on the battle lines
red shemagh
tied about your neck
I saw the bayonet
pierce your
breast
to match your
red
your man’s
clothes

why do we
disguise ourselves,
Cosette?
why don’t women
make history?
why can’t a woman
take a bullet?

my dear Cosette,
we fall
on words
on chisels
on the battle lines
sometimes we don’t
get back up
sometimes we die
before we are dead

my dear Cosette,
I watched you
bleed
I heard you
scream blue
******
you were my sister
and I was the sculptor
to capture
the peace of death
on your face

my dear Cosette,
I watched you die
now rise
to the battle lines
rise
with your head high
let me resurrect you
with my hands