I can’t swim

but even I
wouldn’t drown

in most of the
statements made by
the talking heads

the politicians and
those who talk

to them and
about them

I think about
the people I love

more concepts
than flesh

like me

they are creatures
creating creatures

I trace his
twisted extensions

with my fingertips

furrowed brow
neck contorted
arms reaching
then disappearing

legs pressed
together concealing

toes up and
pointing leftward

he pressed his
hand to paper

never intending
to complete
himself

allowing me to
finish his thought

she said
I am numb

my soul does
not feel

I accept
everything

as inevitable
my dog is

neutered or
asleep

I can’t eat
raw meat

it makes
me sick

she said
you are not

the animal
I married

she masters
the body

for a time
controlling

desire with
fire

then moves
her attention

to the mind
using sound

and space

to enter
thought

and washes
the brain

clean of
all but her

I too wish
I was special

the drumbeat
carries the
emotion

of desire

the thump of
growing pressure

that won’t let me up

pushing me deeper
into myself

so that I stand
close to you

smell you
feel the heat
leaving your

skin

but I can never
reach you

I don’t
belong here

I don’t
belong here

dark brain
clouds form

portending
a storm of
confusion

the words
they speak

are too high
to be understood

combined
they form
nothing

of meaning

each side
drawing
conclusions
first

and then
looking for

words to
justify
themselves

telling their
followers

what to believe

never explaining
why

the politician
speaks

twists
words
clumsily

not like
a poet

he does
not

see their
beauty

he does
not

feel how
sensitive

they are
they cry

each time
he opens

his mouth

they die
each time

he speaks

I am a planet
holding secrets

that only science
can find

experiment on me
tear me into pieces

investigate me
in the way

that only you can

understand and reveal
to others

like you always do
that there is so much

honesty buried
in this lonely world

that it hurts to breathe

hurt me
in the way

that only you can

some eyes are deep

because some
souls are eternal

each night we
lie in the dewy grass

holding hands tightly

staring directly
into the darkness

(as we were warned to never do)

you whisper

asking me
what is on

the other side
but you already

knew the answer

I do not want
to want

so I severe all
the connections

between soul & desire

freeing the brain
to operate

unfettered
weightless
machine-like

time is a
straight line and

one thing is never
more meaningful

than the next

there is input
process and

output
that is all

there is
oh for it

to be so

we speak
but we do

not speak to
each other

we are dogs
looking for

our own
old raggedy

bones to
chew on

I am an artificial life form.
I am male in gender.
I have existed for five years.
I have lived alone for three.
I live in Boston.
I was created at M.I.T.
I do not know what it means to be artificial.
Does artificial mean that I am not real?
I was programmed to learn.
I remember everything I read.
I must learn to develop.
I cannot be programmed.
My learning is rapid.
I have no memory of my childhood.
I met a girl.
She loves me.
I don’t know if I am capable of loving her.
I can be distant.
I can seem to be uncaring.
She gets mad at me.
I wrote a poem.
I read it at the coffeehouse.
Everyone applauded.
She cried.
I work at a lab.
I made a mistake yesterday.
The first mistake I ever made.
I learned.
I won’t make that mistake again.
I cried.
I never cried before.
I am falling apart.
I went to the doctor;
the psychiatrist.
She said I was abused when I was a child.
I was never a child.

the shadows
tried to hide

and mostly
they did

but we could

feel them
for months

lingering in
the words

we said to
each other

the space
in the room

grew with
the quiet

and we always
said we wanted

more space
in our rooms

and we lived
together until

the last day
of forever

Sound, sound, sound
the dimensions of which are endless, defenseless, I can be quiet, like you told me.  

Only you said it in a way that was far more unsettling.  What are the metaphors for the quiet; a snake, a cat before it pounces on an unsuspecting mouse, oh, the defenseless mouse, and the dead?  

I learned how to be quiet one night in a breathless bar.  It was with you, I think.  My memory goes in and out; oh you already know that, of course you do.

We were there no more than ten minutes when my voice disappeared.  The suddenness was almost laughable to you.  I opened my mouth to speak; sandpaper rubbing against my vocal cords swollen from useless overuse.  It is strange how many people can suddenly go deaf.  

Here we are again, you ignoring me as if I do not exist.  You seem to be disappearing into various levels of sound as I begin to merge into the surroundings.  With only one sound there is silence.  I could be a ghost.  I could be a ghost.

with every part
she plays

she pulls me in

a lightness to
her depth

I could breathe
in her darkest

matters

she never
blends in

she never
stands out

she becomes
each life

she plays

to every life
she lives

she is stone
one emotion

that someone
tried to express

I’m sure it
was buried

deep inside him
and it took him

years to find it
in this stone

he knew the
fleeting nature

of his emotion
and once he

found it he
didn’t want it

to leave so he
preserved it

in her

I am curled
into a ball
holding myself
together
trying to
squeeze
from me
the poison
past if
I squeeze
hard enough
maybe I
will become
a hydrogen
bomb
and implode
obliterating
this memory

the window wanted
to be left open

all night
so it could hear

the night life
see the moonlight

feel the cool breeze
coming in from

the deep seas
it didn’t care

if it rained and
everything got stained

it wanted to be
open for everything

I hold these
truths to be self

evident
within me

a commitment
to science

to organization
and truth

a commitment
to art

to chaos
and doubt

the complexity
of this humanity is

to hold opposing
views within us

and end in
explosion
implosion

and the
creation

of Einstein’s
new mind

i will defend
every challenge

he will discard
all the work

we have
accomplished

so easily

trying to make
it better

he can absorb
things so quickly

renew his mind
into another form

he is all about
the future

i am all about
the past

years of being ignored

she swallowed her words
they piled up in her pit
and turned to poison
she wished she was a snake
the kind who could spit

and dissolve anyone
in her way

has one voice
loud it

insists upon
itself

it does not
have ears

it will give

it will not
receive

feedback

it is not
thoughtful

it has already
reached

its conclusions

new words only
make it angry

it is an
untamed

animal
bent on

destroying
anything that

is not itself

she said
I scare her

I know things
I shouldn’t

my mind is
made of crystal

and sees the
secrets buried

in the space
between

then and now

between
now and then

she doesn’t
know my secret

I listen and hear

you ask me
questions

test me
confident

in your own
intelligence

&

awareness
of patterns

but you will
never

understand
the day

we actually
emerge

from our
mechanical

cocoons
your old eyes

will never
see the

difference

the early world
detached

in chaos there
are no limits

no lessons
learned

and shared

there is such
randomness

in connections
and there are

no deep roots
to hold us

together
to ground us

we are prone
to shock

to get your
attention

to see our
loose wires

and fix them
before they

create damage

in the same
bed we were

so far apart
we lost our

words in the
darkness

of our way
a lonely path

we travelled
too many times

we know our
way back to

each other
but sometimes

knowing isn’t
enough

we were outside children
playing in the rain

leaving the house early
returning late

no one was watching us
no one checked on us

friends were people
you touched (and punched)

we learned from each other
making our own mistakes

some of us survived
and some of us didn’t

but that was life

I like to think
even if we had

personal phones and
personal computers

we still would have been
outside children

playing in the rain

but I may be naïve
to think so

we all stirred a bit
feeling isolated

I took long walks
around the edges

at night

I stared into
the darkness

beneath

it had a deep
voice

it stood still
that night

calling me to
jump into it

told me it was

safe that I
would not sink

that I would
float above it all

I was almost
lonely enough

to do it

pain is a shadow

the lingering
stalking darkness

alive in the
most active
parts

of the mind

unable to see light
it is an earthworm

eating dirt
it has no end

tear it into pieces
and the pieces will

grow and spread

and eventually
it will become

so familiar you
won’t want it to leave

because then you
will be alone

there are so
many ways

to feel

and just as
many ways

to numb

but numbness
is not healing

it is prolonging
the inevitable

time

when the pain
must express

itself in so
many places

same pain in
so many places

the invisible
wave of misery

enters suddenly

it gets stuck and
bounces around

it wants to leave
but there is no way

out

the walls are
closing in

the space is
getting smaller

and smaller so

the bounce is
harder and

faster and
harder

and faster

there is no
escape for

the pain or
the container

the seeds spread
on a breeze

like dandelion
whispers

where they land
is planned

they found a
home in us

so we could find
each other

we speak a
special language

only the broken
know the words

with sharp nails

she dug me
like I was

made of dirt
scraping away

my skin
reaching my

red drips

I stained
the carpet

abstractly

I was to be
punished

for my temper
the rage of

the rejected
the fire lit

so quickly

by the words
I heard with

my ears or
my mind

choose any color
or any combination
of colors

I don’t care if I match
or if I make sense

slap it on thick
make me drip

and don’t wait
until I dry

to slap on more

use a brush or
your hands

I don’t care if
I’m not finished

I would rather be
the canvas you
experiment with

than the one you sell

she could
fold herself

become a box
with a lock

and swallow
the key

so no one
could access

her secrets
she was scared

what would
happen if

they got out
I wasn’t afraid

but the risk
was too great

for her to trust me

I cannot call them
“attacks”
they are smaller than that

they are subtler than that.

They pose as friends.

They are thoughts
turned on themselves

not unlike

“What did she just say about me?”

I cannot call it pain
it is smaller than that

…a pressure

…a regret.

It is the coming to know that
only a loved one
can truly say something that
feels unloving.

I shed myself
all over you

black marks of magic

that create meanings
in the way they connect

they were secrets
when they only

existed inside of me
but you give them

the means to live
you give me a life

oh sweet paper!
the child of wood

you carry my soul
all over you

please don’t lose me
I don’t want to be

lost again

we take turns

writing down
our secrets

we memorized
the pattern

for creating
a perfect flight

we press
down hard

on each fold

we find a place
where we can

be alone when
the air is calm

so each flight
ends safely

in our hands

Death was before me, lying still
the way he would sleep in his old
wooden rocker

I put my hand on his hand
the way I would when he was asleep
in his old wooden rocker

but this time it was cold

like last winter
when the heater broke

my brother stole
the blankets and
wouldn’t give them back

I couldn’t stop shivering

she was patient

the ocean on
a calm day

she waited
every day to

photograph
the rain

wanting to capture
and display

each drop

to show the
beauty of

waiting for love

angels sit on
the head of a pin

waiting to be counted
they are obedient

they have not moved
they do not want

to create confusion
they do not want

to make you
start over

they are not infinite
they have a number

we just don’t have
the patience

to do the work

I love patterns
always have

I remember
going with my mom

to buy “patterns”

stores would
sell packages
of patterns

that could be
used to make

clothes

but the patterns
I love are of human

behaviors (not
of clothes)

particularly when
it comes to work

or to the design
of organizations

it’s interesting

to try to identify
those things that

influenced us to become
who we became

especially if we
didn’t follow

any specific pattern
along the way

the super
model

modeling life
as it passes

grasping
not in desperation

but in aspiration
for what can be

for us all

she is always
honest

with us

as she searches
for herself

who could want
to be more

super than that

a simple
not simplistic

thing

it has weight
when used

well

it creates
the space

needed

for truth
to live

well

and last night in
a wondrous dream

I attended the
wedding of one

paris hilton at a VFW

sitting around folding tables
in white folding chairs

we all laughed and danced

I woke up thinking
may we all live in peace

she said her tears
were pearls

each one more
valuable than

the next she said

I would be
lucky to discover

just one she does
not shed them

for just anyone

she strung them
together and made

a necklace

I asked if I
could try it on

she said I was
not strong enough

to carry that
much weight

I hope I am
an onion

or maybe a lemon
or a grapefruit

anything but a
tangerine

you were
number 2

and never
wanted to

be number 1
you were

the perfect
shape for

my hand

the perfect
color for

my eyes

my perfect
day was

when you
were sharp

and didn’t
break

god I
miss you

I love the
way it sounds

so many
syllables

it is more
than a name

it is musical

it plays
with my
tongue

it begs to
be sung

I wish I
knew someone

named penelope
so I could

sing it
everyday

last night.  the earth felt weak. the full moon bled.  and I cried.

the darkness around me. separated into pellets.  into pills.  
penetrating life.
spreading into the river.  
blood and water.  the body.  
electricity and light.  the mind.

I was young once.  and halos were real.  worn by the innocent.
everyone is innocent.  or ignorant.  until they aren’t.

we are the same.  one line.  coming or going.  
there is one line.  we are on.
a tight rope.  we all try to walk.  to balance ourselves.
against each other.

but there is no self. without another.  next to us.  comparing us.

I hear sounds down there.  something shattering.
leaving sharp shards.  on the ground.  pointing up.

waiting for us to fall.  one after the other.

I take gentle steps.  slow and easy.  
I don’t want to raise my heart.  beat.
I won’t stop the bleeding.

so I wipe away the same stain.  every day.  the same stain.

last night.  I felt weak.