I fly through life on autopilot
Do you think they'd ever realize?
I arrive and depart on time
The ground greets me no differently
With no knowledge of my vacancy

Calculation is a constant and lifeline
To connect me with my kind
Kind only in anatomy, general size,
The way we obey parallel lines.

Ground control, do you read me?

​Is this your heart
Or a Polaroid?
Thick white borders hiding
The true picture inside.

[I still bring snow]

I think mom’s new dog must have the bones of a kite. I have a lover, now. a he, a beekeeper. a she if she saddens in the nearness. a nothing, a dowry. ghost china. spacesuits for stillborns. under this blanket, a puppet reads to a doll about light. under that, the shape of what goes blind in a poem. I miss you. plural. I don’t wash my forehead. I still bring snow.

~

[house musics]

no star foreign, brother kisses a spiderless ceiling.

the diver
dead
our father
loved

~

[untitled]

a sick child can be in two stories at once. anthill. calvary. tell neither. I feel like maybe I am talking my way up the dollmaker’s ladder. eat? I won’t the black duckling. god

won’t the owl. angels

just birds
that faint.

~

[response musics (iii)]

...weigh god in photos. free a crow from the gospel of the negative. (we) revisit the medicines. call you dead and call you hawk gone to curl in the lap of a cyclops. ask (we ask) for what landbound thing did your body carry time? your past, every year, the same spot. thing never shows.

~

[response musics (iv)]

a run on mirrors. lowkey exorcisms.

wheelchair, lamb’s minus
one.

mom and the angel
of last
names. dad

and the snowplow.

dad and the ballet slipper.

yea the shadow
of his yawn.

~

[removal musics (xi)]

it’s always your story to which the afterlife gets added. did you even want children? do crows

hear thunder? no butcher believes in time.

~

[how I want you to remember my sister]

in a puppet show
about washing
my son’s
feet, or waving down

the ice cream truck
with her bible, or

as farewell

to nothing’s
church
of neither

~

[pseudo]

between the house of the first suicide
and the house of the second
there’s one
with a dog door.

the moms all work at the same ghost jail.

the dads say things like

/ finally a parrot I can hear / & / in hell
nobody steps
on their reading
glasses.

the dream is there we put our mouths on. our hands.
the dream
that was nest.

brothers dressed like jesus
brush their teeth
and sisters
keep a tender
thumb.

~

[takeaways from his speech to the poor about what happens overnight]

horror movies are all the same.

babies can’t get amnesia.

I once pointed a starting gun at the head of a thing that wasn’t looking.

sleep is the christ of the mind.

~

[dream saw and dream tooth]

to be
as asleep
as a father’s
left leg

as a birthday
for a window

~

[removal musics (xii)]

if childless, we call it mother.  

-

how long
did you fake
being young?

-

this part / of her poem / is empty

-

three men remove my shoes

-

translates

to yesterbed

-
  
self-portrait in milk

☯
you weren't looking but
the universe unfolded
in your garden's bones.

beyond the wild blue yonder
within the forests deep
I search with wild abandon
for what I cannot keep

for to even scrape
the edges of the sun
puts worth to the chasing
that's a cyclical run

for beyond the wild blue yonder
churning oceans weep
a world that is at once
wide awake and fast asleep.

Everyday the tide
And what flows in I cannot
Control,
Everyday awash and I
Know that my love is real,
Because the pain is real.
Amazing the hope is the rain
And sun has become the hurt,
Fate has given twist,
Everyday I see the lost
And when I find them
Only a little of what once was,
Remains.
Everyday like the wind on my face,
The perfect imbalance tips
Under empty,
And once I was full of hope,
Only now it has become audacity.

Everyday the tide,
And the waters rage
Beyond anyones control,
Everyday the poem
Takes a few words away
From my tired soul,

Everyday
I
Still
Have
hope........