Floating  
like a
speck of
snow
in the
rain
-dissolving-

Mojo LowJo:
not quite the
chimp in a
purple cape

No triplet of
enemies beset
against me

And still yet
met with demise:
thwarted poetry
on the rise

A moon princess
prepares
for her coronation:

She wakes early
every morning to
chant ancient songs,

remains a light turned
on, a bright good morning
from winter to spring;

leaves offerings of her
tears and laughter
at the alter with care;

fasted, washed her face
and hair and danced naked
in the stream from day to night.

After turning away from
herself she turns
back with rosy cheeks:

A moon princess
prepares
for her crown:

she wears the webbed
melody of singing
stars strung together,

she hums and resonates
her body begins to harmonize
her voice turns to gravity:

she can speak
she can think
she can hear;

her hand outstretched
to the people, her
love refined

The nighttree looming
in full bloom -clumps
of ripe starfruit
hanging from
boughs-
drooping
heavily

Fields
of my
ancestors
-stalks of
cane sugar-
surrounding

It yields
yearlong:
for the sun
-garish- in
its wake
leaves thirst
quick
to slake

I am one
but I feel like
four- the stable
Form on all legs-

How is it there in tomorrow?
It is good and I am
well and the legs of
the table don't wobble

In three there
is no resolution.
A compromise exists
and connects the opposites.

But no one sits
on a three legged chair.
No one fits in a trinity
excluding humanity

My four is my
Lord and the
Three is in me

Pillow under the head,
body laid in a bed,

black splotched red

behind the eyes, and
a breath somehow
wakens the rest

Please open seal
gently, the general
surgeon commands
his general army

No more hesitation:
The first incision
made at the
proper perforation

The code is embedded
deep in the thalamus
between -before- us:
A carrier pigeon
bringing his
message

He does not
stop to rest
on his way

Distraction establishment
making lawful constraints
for what is and what ain't

Deconstruct to reduce:
both oath oat at t

No hasty decisions
should’ve been made,
so you say.

Is it habit or some
other innate thing drawing
in the opposites?

You remembered when I said
love could be like that thing inside atoms:
A force between the quarks and current

with no real will of its own,
but to pulse and pull

Two vibratory frequencies
complement and intersect
and turn jarring like:

a tendency to say mean things or
hit me—like a school boy crush—and
sniff me on occasion while I rub
my face on yours like a cat

Because I was one in a past life
and you were a dog

Is my body an
expensive house:

Should I be careful?
Lock my doors?

Flask emptied,
half-full still

cup runneth
over

Ashtray astronaut
drifting around the
nautical stars

Knots in his stomach
and shoulders for naught,
he sticks his little flag in slots

Exploring
the major
and minor
keys of
poetry

A third up
and half a
step down:

So fine
the lines
widening

like childs
eyes before
fruit

ripe
before its
known that
they're

any
good for you
-as mud for
elphants-

Snacks at
noon

I **** like a fairy
on funghi:

If a fun guy could happen
to *** by briny waves
ridden turned wastewater
that only perverts could swallow,
and turn rough like a flagellant

Beating against being submerged,
with wings going like mad, and hurt
charting pain like a map on the
body as it lay gasping, oars
grasping for dry land.

My luck lies fairly
on the one guy

Ha sido
una semana hasta
mi ultimo humo,
y no me siento mejor.
No estoy cansada ni
tengo hambre.

Soy perezosa
me acuesto aquí
en mi cama, con
la sabana deja de mi.
Estoy frío pero
mis almohadas
están cómodo

Is this the sky?
Does it disguise
how seasons
play out?

How many
times?
Not yet
too many,
but more than
it set out to

Bound lightly
left on hempty
and winking:

Skylight
spreading
skynight

Whose little dog
to wag a finger
at today?

-Bone swallowed,
slid and stuck in
the wrong pipe-

What is enough
to feel better?
an equal distribution
of humors throughout
ones constitution

Scales tipped
by the lilts of
a pointer

At what point
does coincidence
become not so

Say the thing about
energy being everything
is true then

At which frequencies
do numbers ring?

You know how I am,
but you don’t know why.

My mom would probably say something like
“Two unno fight like **** an’ dog,”

And I would agree, and quarantine myself
away to keep you from getting too sick of me.

I never thought it mattered if we agreed on
anything, as long as we said “yes” to each other

No fingers
hooked in
a waistband
or any hand
holding

We're all
adults here

Deals the
same as
deficiencies
in the blood:
ignorance or
vitamins

Hormones
and chemical
imbalances

I can see myself
falling for you,

and in that voyeuristic  
pleasure, I feel it-- falling
for you--

and I must look away

like an embarrassing
scene on TV or a
train wreck,

but I can't look away

Upon arrival it smells
exactly as it should,
or only slightly different
than how it ought to

it should be
equal too; not you
like a morning mood
it can be a fickle youth

A poem lays:
a floor
It asks: what
am I naked for?

~
Beauty the incunabula
—first traces—of poetry

Feelings—known but unnamed—
spurned from the sublime


~
So fine
the lines
widening

like child’s
eyes before
fruit

ripening,
before it’s
known what
right is

any
good for you
—as mud for
elephants—

Snacks at
noon

Bananas (n).

The things with a curve,
a little thick and firm and squishy;
durable outer cover for protection

Is it needy
to need more
than what you
think is enough

Relationship or responsibility:
Not mature enough for
either or anything more
than the bare minimum

I need a real love
waiting for me
when I'm gone. I
need a good friend.

Closely, closely
quickly it comes
to K to control
elsewhere the
singular second
in a syllable
can canned
cancerous
a critical component
computing which
muscle

Bubbled
then
pops

The thought comes
like an ******
--anticipated--
and dissipates

Where does a ravishing force
come from an unknown tantinglingzing
tantric combination of random hailing
between two (or more) bodies;
As is prescribed by

any tongues
dictionary of
mandated choice

Some relief
from the
breaking bond
of oxytocin

I curved
-thighs flat
against the
mat- feet
to my head
and breathed

Felt my sliding
muscles taut
and thought
of you for two
-briefly-
eight breaths

Your hands
around my
neck

I breathed.
Unfurled myself
with an inhale,
...exhale

my skeleton is
made from the stuff
as sensitive teeth:

it can't take
much cold

instead of a shiver,
there is a stiffening
freeze, and

cavities make them
slip from their folds

Pancakes plain
with packaged
syrup,
syruptitiously
soaking through
spongey sea foam
substance and
eggs

Not enough
bacon

I am a circle:  
definite indecisions
looped in an array of
implausible logics and standard
reasonings -within their composition
quasi-quarks with peculiar quirks
like most anything-
I want to do how others do
I want to want how they do too

To sit
means
to be sitting already
-in the mind-

The same goes for
literature and
written music:
to be read
means
to be performed
-in the mind-

Some great production
of the theatrical imagination:
to project familiar airs of many a
stranger's voice behind the eyes

My body will scream
if it wants.

My body will do as it
will as long as I
allow it.

I will not soften
the sound of the screams
from my body
for the sake of sensitive ears

when the point
of a scream is to
be heard.

My body can scream
loudly, if it wants.

Friend that had been
kidnapped and paid
the ransom in a
*** of cash

The Big Guy called
and called but His
angel's on lunch,
not answering

Warming
amen -rarely-
to the things that
live outside of you

Warn to you,
armed I
Warm to you,
worn I

Are you really not afraid of losing me?
At all?
Kinda *****.
A little?
Kinda hurts.
Not surprising.

There's something about
you, and your function
in my society

The kitchen timer and the
baby monitor's feedback
are like a rock and globs
of aimless wood spirals

Spiraling into that olden age,
samurai slicing through
some molded cage

A push might pull
if asked nice enough

A pull could give a
push if invited to do so

The nature of a thing
is very flexible and
malleable like hot glass

Where the thought thinks
first of itself is where the Universe
first ****** itself into existence

The old ball and chain
tethered to the ankle is not enough
for me, but it's fun to skip with

The vibrations of skin
friction beneath the fingernails
must be a sounding of the ankh

Another few days tacked on
with hardly even a thought

Ok, I have
nothing

to write but
I'd like to
write, but

it's gotten
an unfamiliar
strange smell on
it now from sitting

out on the
counter too long

A *** puts
a lid on its
big mouth

to shut it up
and keep that good
hot stuff in.

There's a time
and place for
heat and steam:

Facials and saunas
and geysers but

nowhere else

I goad the goblin
bee into stinging

I harden my heart
to harshness

I want I love you
to be enough

The view
before me:
a sky
comprised
of sky like
Attenborough
sea side

Rice krispies
and water
between us

St. Petersburg
3-6

Blue shifts
bluey pinks
meet clementine
licks violet
amidst the creatures
swimming in the
deep of the fermament

He spoke with his nose against mine.
He closed his eyes and hesitated to kiss me gingerly
and when I did not deny him, he kissed me again.

And when I returned his affections
he gave a sigh of passionate relief,
his fingers imploring tenderly to
find the skin beneath cloth

within the sheets, and I
allowed him to. “I want you
to understand,” he said against
my lips, pulling me into him,
and so I tried to.

God **** it all
if everything with
you isn't some form
of instinct or reflex

How long
should a
poem live?

Is its life
expectancy
dependent
upon the reader
or itself?

Can its
parts
wear
down?

Does death
treat literature
more kindly?

Settle down, now
no need to steer a course
already laid out

Hush, nevermind: drink
white hot light wine. Only
say yes— if you’d like to
you can walk away

if you’d rather not
have nothing