regular delivery
it arrived with the standard 8 vertices
rigid and battered
******* box

i kicked it around the house
oh bout two months
maybe three
till i got sick of lookin at it
it started kicking me back
hard as hell
and right where it counts
you know what im talking about
chunking it out the window
never worked
just re-delivered
i had to sign for that *******
every time
my john hancock is all over it now

i should open it
rip back the crumpled packing tape
and just peer in

and when i did
and that rip stopped echoing
in the cave that is my room
and the moldy ***** were pulled back
the cavity was exposed
a cool gust shot up
curled back my mustache
and made me grin
like i just saw a russian blue
do a back flip

funny too
it smelled like you
sweet perfume
and that ***** drawer whiskey
i gasped and tried to **** it all in
to ghost that hit of you

i stuck my head in
to get all of it
licked the inside of the cardboard
for each last scrap

i made each fold into origami
crane
dragon
turtle
rabbit
so on

and just before i knelt down
to pray for another breeze in a box
i opened a window
and sat with my feet dangling
grinning with you all over me
sure that a wind
would soon blow up from the south
warm and loving
fragrant and laughing
to smack me
just when i need it most

Out my mouth big chunk.
I won't clean it up. Chunk again.
On the wall, at the wall, in the wall.
Saw my dad.
I told him not to eat the Dunkaroo.
Or else he would be chunking too.
Ok.

We couldn't bear to be in the chunky dunk sea.
We left our house.

I held my hand out to the dark
And scooped a black from air
I held it hard, a beating heart
'Tell me all, hostage fair,'

'I slink and sleek,
Cramp and creep,
Hustle hiss
I foe your sleep.'

Rumble, bumble, tumble so,
taken over by hand-held heart,
I crumble when I see it hold me,
It shakes me shakes me till I part.

Let it free, I said to me,
And go it did, fly on scales like music,
Clunking, chunking out the door,
I felt a little mad that day.

It was supposed to be listned to loud but i could not get loud enough
Seasonal pain seasonal change
My guts feel like marbles and tantrums
Its gonna be with ya the rest of your life and anything ya do soured by random access memories chunking down in the deep down deep things listen deep things scream it was supposed to be loud but i could never get loud enough
Seasonal pain, seasonal change
Dread, 2018, age of trumpets judgement jumping to concussions brick red smoke black starts at the fingers then shakes at the knees fire inside the call was supposed to be loud but i could never be loud enough
Seasonal pain, seasonal change
Shot to ****, slow cooked peppered preped and sold, lies stack trust me ******* trust me catastrophe careening on buses across the country destiny will bury me i shoulda cried louder but its never loud enough
Seasonal pain, seasonal change.

Whats it matter any way.

Joined at eighteen
Left at thirtysix
But it was all worth it
They say
I say
It could have been worse
Nobody beat me
It was worth it
Wouldn't have had those kids
Otherwise
Can't regret them
Though we gave pure love
To a beast of pure manipulation
There were good parts
Beautiful people
As willing to give as I
Chunking flesh off the bone
For that beast
I must be stupid
To've stayed
But being loyal seemed strong
At the time

-

stripping off bark,
carefully neat
unbroken
strings,
and then
into the bone
of the branch

bigger chips follow suit
as the carving
continues

the knife peels, chunking
out rough pieces as
they litter the floor

later to be swept aside
into darkness

years pass in solitary
cutting as cars
go slowly by

looking where the front porch
is buried at one end with
the chips of his wilderness

displaying no
ornaments
to show
for the labor

no birds
no raccoons
no whistles
not even his cane

pare of nothing
but the pile—

all he is...


s jones
2020

.

I heard that Dr Johnny Bananas
signed off on a letter on herd immunity
and *******, I’m in

Last seen fleeing a beat up
Chunking Mansion room
after a deal for python skins
(needed for his surefast oil) went bad,
his mad streak nearly had him

This was after that narrow squeak in Singapore, when peddling stay hard pills to rotten expats got dicey, as they realised his concoction
was more talc than tungsten
and some Salakau took a machete interest

So the enigmatic Dr B has resurfaced
in Great Barrington, Mass.
to add his voice to the Ivy League Profs, homeopaths and khoomii singers’
hard nosed exhortations
to stop worrying and love the fever,
persistent cough,
anosmia

If life has taught us anything
it’s that when Dr Johnny B spins
fresh from Whitehall or White House
with advice for living well,
you can take that to the offshore bank.
I’m sold