sake in the kitchen.
peace and control  .  
   my body decomposing over a slice of bread

learning to see people as objects
pinching together the corners of pages.with nails that need to be
trimmed

scrolling through  screen
girls skinny in their dresses

folding down
with
[waists that are really waisting]

like an oily thumb .tracing
pink lines across a bright white
leg
like a dry tiger.

like youth and destruction in-side an aging murderer's  head

                                               ­                        -like




                          and oh!
                           **here comes a tune fromlong ago

sparks fly off the 3rd rail   .like
winking at the mole-men
          you tighten your belt and      lean a pink ear
on the wall

august comes and goes
in a hop-along head

clock-breath .heaving like the         earth
and dust in sunlight
\

hair in faCe-

lids, part covered over like gauze on a wound

as your zipper eyes are caught in my [ shirt]
3/4s of the way down

a metallic taste
like ******* on a cashier's finger-[tips]

the sandpaper strips at the edge of each stair
as  your head tilts . like
a broken PA speaker on a subway car
pushing static like a jazz drummer

art blakey and the
hiss.

superrich .  call they say,
                      savory as
sputnik sounds through hamradios
in every other basement
in a time [and place]where things are still
in bed

my belief in you is a bar of soap
shrinking .   each time it gets wet

Yeah oh yah, but at least we stay clean

There are things crawling on the ceiling in August
There are bellies heaving in and out

There are faces  pinker than fingernails in August
There are gods and the dying

I am standing in the hallway in August
I am not a god


You liken me to the inside of drawers in August
You shut me and
You line me with  plastic  fabrics

You fill me with silverware and
You disarrange
[.     With courage. ]

The white fan stands on the kitchen floor pointed out the window.
Cleaning chemicals hang like
Jungle.
I have no garden.
Mail is delivered to the wrong address.
I pick at the same zit under the skin until a scab forms above my left
eyebrow

I could be growing tomatoes right now, but I’m not.
The yard faces the wrong way.

I’ve had no time to buy planters.
Work has been rough.

The dog is on edge today.
She is still a puppy.
We speculate that she may go into her first heat (soon.)