On advice from a friend

I’m sure that “plenty of ******* in the world”
and “Love me some freckly *******”
were said with the best intentions


On Physics

While I watched a woman Hoola-hoop
and take off her clothes I was fascinated,
but when she laid down on the ground
and took off her stockings, while the hoola-hoop
twirled on, I lost all belief in science.


On painting a brown dormitory ceiling white**

“You really have to use both arms to get up in there
Just push it up in the brown
Get it all until it is covered in white
Come on Tom, use your muscles.”

That’s what she said

I.

The grandfather dies. The dog also.
The sun sets in the west. Turquoise
is a good color to name. Something
that ebbs is likened to something
that never ebbs. It is raining.


II.

The speaker’s grandfather was a master
carpenter. The things he made are scattered
around the speaker’s family. The speaker
expects his future spouse to help him steal
these to put in their future house.

III.

The important part is the speaker
still uses his dog’s name as the answer
to security questions on the internet.
In the situation of the speaker being in a life
and death struggle with an evil
clone of himself, you hold
the gun and don’t know which
to shoot. Ask the dog’s name.
If you want to live, know the answer.

For Jenny (1988-2010)*

When I picture killing myself
it is always with a gun. Always in
flashes. It is hard to look at yourself

in pieces. It had been years. My last
image of you is in a blue flower-printed
dress. I don’t know if it is real,

or if I built the dress to put you in. I found
out from my friend with the red curly hair.
Our friend. I was sure it has been an accident.

I’ve known accident before. It is easy to pray then,
knowing that you had the resolve to do this,
the prayers don’t come easily. My tongue

shakes; my hands are covered in thick mud. It pulls
them down. The strangest thing is the manner, the place
that you did it. It was how and where I would

have done it. An acquaintance named Katie once told
me a story of a man admitted to the institution.
He had planned the fiscal responsibilities, the day,

the time, the place, the how of killing himself so that
it would be the easiest on those he loves. In the secluded
park, when he was about to pull the trigger, cops en route

to find his body with note attached, a school bus of children arrived.
They were on a field trip to save his soul apparently, and
he checked himself in the next day. Katie explained calmly

that this man was crazy. Who could plan it out so meticulously?
I really had been wishing everyone did that. At least Ryan and I
were able to talk about it calmly. I was so worried that he would

**** himself. I still am. The questions I have for you are not
about white light. They are: what was it like waiting in the car, knowing
the poison was coming on, what was it like keeping the door closed?

~for my father~*

I remember when we repaired
that computer
for no reason, and
with little to no experience.
I treated it like a school project,
circled it, called friends, talked about it.
I was a shark.
You treated it like old stairs, and took
power tools to it until the screen
could stand again.
Hallelujah. We were a miracle.
And after it all,
I remember letting the electricity flow
into it. You and I didn’t breathe.
This was our metaphor
when it lit up and welcomed us.