even teddy said i got the sickest tricks brah.
like my abilities source from some kinda legendary liquid
                                                                ­                      / praise the lord /
monster energy should sponsor me.
a kickflip over the king’s *** hole
& a halfcab for the looky-loos.
i feel so tall when i climb that heap of asphalt trimmings
& see clear from the water tower to the bluffs.
gimme a good day, any day at the bluffs,
bottlerockets & girly birds.

her body brings a swarm of worms.
decomp,
said the f.b.i. men one by one with tweezers.
not quite the homecoming queen, still
wrapped in plastic.

look up.
see that great mess of wires, nest of powerlines and owl bones?
it crackles and croons its electro-spectral purr
all night and day.

new neck tat &
cody spends his paycheck on a crossbow.
we target practice on a bull skull.
wet cigarettes and turpentine-soaked socks for a good huff
in the dry of the roofline as it dumps.

there’s that little boy in a ghost mask again, tap-dancing
in puddles below the streetlamp,
& oversized shoes.
his grandmoms always be watchin’ from the window.
[whispers] she’s teaching him magic.

lucky unit 19: where our young dead damsel once dolled
herself up, you see
men and headlights would roll thru thrice nightly,
maybe more.
& i remember her punch red lips &
big whicker hat; while she weeded and watered her garden of begonias.

the sheriff’s deputy, hart? hicks? hogan? well he loved her a bunch.
stole her clothes in the middle of the night,
& sat beside the river sobbing into clumped fists
of bra and blouse.
i bought ******* from that guy once or twice.
harold? howard?

guess who showed his face today?
josiah, from unit 08.
since the incident with molly’s beagle, he’s been rarely seen.
took a bee line straight for the mailbox.
a package. a prize. a decoder ring/secret map sweepstakes
to be seen and deciphered.

I was supposed to remember
That thing I thought of last night
But I guess it's self-evident by now
That I don't.

June flowers again as a caterpillar crawls upon the cards of condolence.  This transformation is a kickflip hidden within a butterfly wing.

Earth is gathered and offered again.  Grandfathers' home the empty shell.  His clutter decluttered, her signature removed.  

The final supper, a cell phone speaks in secret codes, bourbons are broken in two, with the jigsaw complete their sky is blue.

Glasses full of laughter, we drink them all.  A thousand dollars will secure the deal.  A headstone holds their story.  Together they are reunited.

When I hear the word
Nostalgia;
I think of the trampoline
and how we weren't allowed
to put the sprinkler underneath
it; when anyone was home.
A ******* lab who knew
love
but never manners
and who never
wanted to learn,
especially not from us.
We laughed louder than we cried,
and he must have thought
those kids are doing
something
everything
nothing
right.
Watching my
big brother
land his first and
only kickflip while
discovering dew-wet worlds
in the bamboo shoots
that grew
inexplicably
in our Connecticut backyard.
Eating crab apples,
and never getting
too sick to want
another one.
Sitting in circle time
not knowing
that we were
the only
black kids
but knowing that
our parents loved us enough
to teach us themselves.
Walking outside on
the first day of spring,
and baking on the pavement like
fresh brown bread.
Days that started with
waffles and too much Aunt Jemima,
and ended, invariably,
with Sleepy Time Tea.

Lost boys never find home
Couldn't tell you places I've gone
Every night a different ******' time zone
She don't believe in alien, here is six million tons of limestone
I swear they never listen
I woke up trippin'
They need to see my inventions
All my cell phone friends
Abigail always listens
Fairy tales, premonitions
I was gettin' too specific
I had to shift the dimension
Atlantis is in the Pacific
I don't panic, the **** is prolific
Took a canvas and a canister and then it vanishes, **** is terrific
On my cheek, your old lipstick
I just cut my heart in three full pieces, I'm 'bout to see you a triptych
All of us roll up, we doin' a kickflip
I fall in abyss and I suddenly miss it
But **** it, I'm onto some next ****
I need to get back to the flexin', collectin' the checks
Get 'em out of the section
When I see my whole ego's in question
Man, I hate how the people digest it