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we left the hills of lebanon
through the fields
first poppy and then through the taller flowers
i need a new shirt
with a taller collar and french cuffs
we simply must
travel to damascus
80 kilometers over the mountains
wheels between villages
barren spaces and us
needing new shirts
on that last hill
we could see the whole thing
******* man look
we can see everything
all the seas and **** like that
****
...
you know i think i might need some new socks too
i cant stop sneezing
it took me fifteen minutes to write that
its my birthday but i dont deserve it
i realize myself in sharp bursts
slices between when its all mechanical
closing one eye to type and record it
look at my filthy fingers
scrub cuticles and continue
what abhorrent keys
clean those
(sneeze)
behind me rhythmic tickling
(sneeze)
pirouette
(sneeze)
i crossed my legs

&found; that many hours later
i was still
full lotus
eyes half open
the exhaustion crawling
through each pore
steaming effervescence
reminding me that there is never a time better
to withdraw into ones self &then; far beyond
is it floating or is it flying
singularity in eyeline
within the nearest whole
blacker than the absence of light
this dark...

this dark
consumes blindness
buried is
all the matter of another universe
waiting to erupt

consciousness like ours
needs never to travel into the depths of space
headlong into a new biological manifestation
but instead be patient
you needed each other

though neither of you yet knew it
each ingesting what each season offered
growing beyond near defeats
each winter bare and shivering
each summer consuming broad and open
laughing all the while
showing bridges
between deep past and next season
neither existing without the water
the other poured willingly
one for the blinding yet nurturing
impending solar singularity
and the other for the pleasant aroma
and the welcoming blossom
and the predictability
the companionship
and when you
our beautiful ample matriarch left us
so did your sister
and her leaves fell
and then her petals
and her pistol
stamen
limbs
as if weeping for the loss of her confidante

when you
my mischievous sponsor
when you fell
so did your rival in beauty
i used a chainsaw
i tossed away her lifeline
turned off the faucet and tossed the hose
stacked her limbs on the curb
for the garbage truck

they wont let you
bury trees at the cemetery any more
the best nut

the best nut
is the one that
can name all the nuts
that develops new spellings for her name
every. day.
the lady that
pokes the out lenses
from old women's glasses
and gives them to me
that snort-giggles
in. her. sleep.
writes fan fiction
for star gate sg1
listens to disney soundtrack 45s
on 33 setting
shoplifts pez dispensers
takes plants as souvenirs
and wakes up at 3
to brush her teeth
the best one
dances alone in a mexican resturant
gives herself dutch ovens
and poses for photos
fake asleep
covered in snacks
hates recess
loves shirt no pants

but the best
the BEST nut
is the one that sustains
the most grueling cross texas trip
to put up with me
youre bringing me down

not to the tank floor
where your image above seems distorted and oscillates
between grim and precious
but where you deflate me

below where my ego floats me
feet parallel
third eye perpendicular
like you and yours

bringing me way down

not below the bed (unless you like that kind of thing)
where only the darkened image of your lowest extremities are in view
only your most base visible
but you enfeeble me

beneath where my height normally is measured
knees grinding
clutching my claws
into the ground

down down down (man)

not still, submerged within the earth
where thistle and clover block my view of you
your tears watering my marble marker
but you pacify me

buried beyond my anxieties
placidity settling
astride my bone
to envelop my quintessence
she begged
dont forget about me
dont let me go
kiss me before you leave
how could i
wish i didnt have to
here
mwah

i pleaded
take me home with you
here take my shirt
come back with me
how could she
she wished she didnt have to
no
i cant

above acorns
plosive "p's"
slurred and lisped "s's"
bare feet crying out
i began
humming
what used to be called
dub
we kissed
and
as our lips vibrated
cracked and dry
pseudo-moistened with
yesterdays scent
my smile showed first
then hers
then mine again

all too easy to close
the door clanged
and with a creak
the window revealed
what i was losing

one more for the road
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