There is
a star
named
us.

From
us
to
fusion.

Man I hate when a girl gets in your head,
because she stays there,
just squats
on your hypothalamus.

But even more than that
she takes over the left side of your brain;
sleep
takes
awhile.

Sleep is no longer
inevitable.

When I start feeling a girl,
I feel her hard,
and I feel her jumping
on my brain for fun,
even though she doesn't know it hurts.

**** my heart,
she'll make her way down there
soon enough.

She says I have a ness
about me,
a sadness,
an angriness,
a hatefulness,
a loch ness.

I haven't washed my hoodie
in a week, the toothpaste splatter
on my shoulder
looks like come,
maybe it's laziness.

Laugh all you want,
but when I was a kid
I didn't watch
Thriller after dark.

But I danced.
I danced my *** off in that lit living
room
with Joci.

All night long,
popping
and moonwalking.

Now that I'm old(er)
I know how to build spaceships
and I can put
the popcorn
in the microwave
myself.

I can take the popcorn out of the microwave
and watch Thriller all night long.

But
then
my little woodpecker
came.

When I was
Cynical
with power
now and then,
I became
Raw
and uncarved
again.

We dance over the graves all night long.
Our tombstones are smooth
and we make light
together
with our feet.

Little woodpecker
what are you beginning to etch
in me now?

"People
.characterize themselves in relationships
like idiots,
all they do is refer to themselves
as 'We' and 'Us'.
That's ******* stupid.
Love is the most
individual
thing
any human being
can take part in.
It's much more selfish.
There's no altruism
in love. Only the selfish survive
in love."

"That sounds bad,"
I say.

"No,
It's good,
so good,
that means
that when I tell you I love you
it's because I do,
not because I feel pressured
to be a part of this 'We'
or
'Us.'"

"Love is being
able to be
this candid."

I think of videos
of big-haired moms
dropping birthday cakes
on the birthday boy
or
dad tripping
over the bride-to-be
as she falls for seven minutes
in a dress as long
as the beanstalk.

I think about this candid
scene.

How stupid
and bizarre
you and I could look,
but how 'we' don't.

I now realize how hard it is
to not use
'We'
in these situations.

I hate going
to clubs
where people just stand around
with beers in their hands,
laughing and sleezing
under the revolving eye
of the strobe sun.

I gotta dance on a girl.

I gotta feel her hips
underneath a velvet miniskirt;
her legs
all soft
and microscopically
prickly.

Bacon.
Eggs.
Cheese.
Bits
of
chicken parts.
Lion
teeth.
A feather
from a king's headdress,
given to you
because you told him
"Isn't this just a stupid ritual?
I was just wondering that."

I like the way your fingers tighten
around my fingers
when you talk
and I happen to be close by.

It's funny,
this poem was supposed to be about
breakfast,
going to the zoo,
and going to see the "Mayans"
and their stupid
fake kings.

We are becoming
a
very
stupid people.

Eats gummy worms
like
Flintstone's vitamins;
popping them in her mouth
wholesale.

She puts away brussel sprouts
delicately,
leaf by leaf.

Sometimes
we read quietly
and go to sleep
body to body.

Our hearts beat
tinily
like squirrel hearts.

WE APPRECIATE THE SMALL THINGS.

I hate abstract art,
right along with you.

I like the impressionists,
and pointillists.

You will be
my Camille
and I will be
your Oscar-Claude.

Wear that green dress
to bed tonight
and I will make you
bashful,
but confident too.

You will make me
humane and
delightfully weak
inside of 500 square feet.

Heartbreak is a crazy monster
that trembles
when it fights.