mid-air toward the icy Catskill eddies
frozen once  and once again--
bridge-jump skyward watchers--
plunge of marrow tears.

you are there.  simulacrum ping
-pong pop on carpet rise
another consciousness i've known
the winking soul recognitive
of grin, of inner whispered act
we finish lineless, applause of ancients drone
on trio sum in low man's song,
on kitchen counter edges,
finger tests and tested trusts,
nail clips clipping on dehiscing ****--
the party. the porch. the project truth of beauty's virtue shown--
the drunken blood a lover
swirled on wet on wet undone.

your attic pillow-talk sobriety
of Green Hole fun
to echo four years, six and seventeen
the age unknown, we shared umbrella sanctity of family home:
raindrops trump the timeless wallstreet horns,
a zero sky ungains the settled hue of mind,
each thought the same, copula to void
in mythic forms we metaphor the plenum won

building dwelling-thinking sung,
the cardiac in tones--
lucid union slowing in the swirling sun--
the eddies stop again, sewn in Catskill frost..
the love we felt alive, in mid-air jump,
in Berto's cheer
we match the water's silent thrum

Sternness,
you earn this.
Books,
you burn this,
only because
somewhere silence says
"Learn this!"

It says,
"the only thing important is definition."
and it will remain so until the flames reach us,
washing upwards like waves on a beach,
claiming us
and burning, popping,
bringing blackness from our toes
upwards still
into our eyes,
leaving lineless husks of us,
like sea shells waiting to be found
and filled
with definition.
To be made a cup.

"Fill your cup with love!
There is no drought.
We’ve reached the wellspring"
and you see no difference in
light and liquid.

"The inside of a heart,
is this dark?"


Escape into,
Get out of,
And be release.

Lingering B flat
A purposeful off key constancy
Hangs onto tips of earlobes until the wet earring must fall and shatter.
Blankets the earth, spreading its wealth as wide as the silver lineless clouds will allow.
Soft and refreshing
Crocodile tears glistening maple leaves weighing them down.
Falls,
hits,
rolls,
slides,
shaken,
splashed...

Water meets dust, a mucky duet.
Constant hum of dots and lines polka dotting khaki pants
Falling against and consuming a world of heartache and lies.

Follows you home from up above, not daring to let you out of its greedy spotlight.
Hugs you,
With the many small kisses of a child.
Full of pride and selfishness pouring on parades,
Laughs on metal roofs for hours keeping some awake, for others a lullaby.
Shouts when it’s feeling heavy and frightened, but always after a while
The temper will subside into a
Long
awaited
whisper.
Calms the ones who weep along with the heavens,
coating them in understanding.
Drowns out the sounds in awkward silences.

Falling forgiveness cries out, as the world reply’s
- we thank you.

my pointless sentences
I keep moving forward on a floor
a lineless picture in my dream
I watch with my heart

you ask me about birds
my only wish is to fly with you
let's walk on a deserted road
no shadows with us

don't let your eyes be deceived by today
tomorrow is always blue
deep and cool

what does it say about me
that i think hunger
is what angels sound like?
lineless and with great aching.
and what does it say about me
that i feel like i could
just pull my pelvis bone
from my hip
and watch it
crumble in my hands?
i couldn't sleep so i
traced my bones,
i couldn't sleep so i
felt my gums,
(my skins got a great story that
no onell ever read
fitting, i guess -
i've yet to be anything but
wasted potential.)
but,
despite everything,
there is something comforting
about the lie of a body.
something human in me yet.
what do i want the answer to be
when i feel my chest
and wonder where
my ribs came from?
it was an early lesson that
one must give up ribs
to be worthy of love.