. . . heels click
on the pavement above
outside my bedroom window
&trance dream cadence
&heart beat trigger -

                                  So, no.

                                   I don't think so.


                                   I are
                                   flatters & vain, Truth: but
                                   why skin descends, rocking
                                   unporcelain bleeding atoms, tiding
                                   messengers tightroping tautiest floss held b'tween
                                   the god's big toe & fat northern lip                               
                                   we can never know.
                                  

T             Mu
  OO





                  c





                                                                            H



                  LIFE                                                  (,)




                                                                             t o    w    r  I  te

You In Hymnal (Written By Somebody Else As Me); Or, Secondhand Mythmaking 330: Adoption and Rearing

I hear her eyes 
fall on the color spectrum Some
Where between
Chartreuse and Infrared and 
the sight of them can 
cause a man to delve in the psy-
che of The Woodland People that once 
inhibited(sic) 
The Anti-Mountains of The Great Plains.

These builders of civilization conquered 
the internal uprising against 
The Dying of Light and those 
eyes reminded a modern man of those 
times past when 
hunter/gather's(sic) 
were seduced by the Native 
American version of 
Medussa(sic) 
and to gaze upon the iris caused 
one to cry and recall a fetus 
inside the womb of Sacajawea 
and the celebration of life and afterbirth that 
flowed into The Mighty Mississippi 
Ohh So Many years ago.

steadfast

feet patter & pit,
cold linoleum
bipedals A/C
flowing brains well
healthful & flourish

    Taking steps outside your bed;
    foreign funky
    unframed,outlined
    webbed,con,tin,u,a,tion, of cross-
    ed state & country lines
          
    just decimated, re-
    drawn blue skyed;Art needs
    some thing to
    art against arou-
    nd,from:High

    tide.

hands curl inter
locked fingers
entwine unlocked oxygen;
Wily lived in the 
forest for years


  

Quotid Jones Met Ravish Rupture-Smith

'per
 hap
     s' t
     he
'gre
     ate      st'    's
ong   '   '   eve r'
m a   de            ?

l                       o
ve a
s in-
semination bir  th       ,
wa          t           er     -
ing        in     -     choate
breath   fin          ger tip
stretchhhhhhhhhhhhed(
Cha       rle          ston C
                                     hew);Death put off.

Excerpt from a Story I'll Never Write (Only Live) (III)

Thank you

    (lowers jaw,
                      nose,forehead
                 even with her own,
                 lips plant)

                 for being patient

                 with me.

We
ll(eyes

vibrate      
taut, drill boring core
mind soul heart)

I think you're worth it.

(and it's perfect)

i

  t's o
         k;you
       'r
     e  i(')m
   pe
 rfe
ct.

-                  -                  -                  -                  -           I

w







I                        L!L!            al





w              a







         Y(e)S(!)    [...]& READ ALL ABOUT IT

help organize tea
                          pick the dead skin
                                                       arrange the library by spine by heart
                                                                                                                               and love you.

GIF Dreams (Sidney's Ma)

I am surprise by every breath released
sucked in caught back up taken in
up and away: the white chalk splashed
explodes euphoric as you GIF me

to sleep, fair unfoul. I am surprise by inauctionable
smiles rowing under the pier to look for sea-ridden lost and found
refusals to dock - out of what? acceptance? fe-
ar? Hoped. I am surprise with every year knows

known lives
what's intestinely
'tween eternal and breath
squealing triggerdly
galaxy bashed out of soil
standing at least six feet tall
shadowlessly, As-Is True.
                                                      (In Fulfillment Of The Scriptures)

un jeune albatros trouve le courage et l'amour de propager ses ailes (merci, charles et samantha)

But man oh man, I feel like you've gone and put more kindling atop heart's

glowing diasapora vast embers, stoking fire into matching shadows for once. Warm
tears streamed down my face calmly draining off chin, depositing 'neath t-shirt 

covered collarbone filling clavicle's basin, placidly accumulating on top lip's

pooled salty exultations from river into lake into ocean undammed falling 

gentle deafened onto tongue igniting the revelation of connection of feeling
like I know someone or something a little more, that we are one cloud closer to one
another than we thought possible, and, sometimes, can hear each other plainly 

speak in silent meditative resting our beat for beat rise and fall tasting all of tears'

despair and howling laughter, all while seeing in technicolor, too.

Excerpt from a Story I'll Never Write (I)

"The Alamo is a nice time and place I hear. My brother demo'd a time-share out and back there. Said it was a real trip. A good fucking sim. He even got to keep the coonskin."

Giants (All)

Trails leading away from when we knew

people almost. We were giants all blood

and flesh and trust.

I never wanted to wander through

too many hallways until I trudged

into too much need and must

turned over 

and clicked and clicked and clicked

and clicked and clicked and clicked

and roared

the engine wild steered off gravel

the hood smashed open the throw 

pillow down feathers scattered 

only everywhere.

I see you everywhere in the stars.

Trust and flesh and blood giants
all we were people we knew from trails

leading away and here, too.

the world's
                 smallest margin for error
      requires
                 a new god's surgical amnesia.

distances (cloying)

                     how?                                                        

                                                            

         can you so

misunderstand me.how

        can't you s

                (!)
            

         e


e                            me?

everything else is in the air

te                                                                                                                                                              ll
m                                                                                                                                                              e
wh                                                                                                                                                           at
y                                                                              o                                                                               u
kn                                                                            o                                                                              w


i                                                                               '                                                                               m
go                                                                            i                                                                              ng
t                                                                                                                                                                o
d                                                                              i                                                                                e

every                                                                                                                                                  thing
el                                                                                                                                                             se
i                                                                                                                                                                s
i                                                                                                                                                                n
t                                                                              h                                                                                e




                                                                              

a


                                             i
                                                                                                                                                             r










everything else is in the air

ground hog daydream (wetting the bed)

              I

sometimes

                (most recently, thirteen seconds ago),

i feel compelled to delete, wipe completely clean this blog's 199 published posts and 416 drafts

                (but this seems like suicide)

sometimes

                (most recently, seven seconds ago)

i frantic and churn pre-apocalyptic dread into drained pitch-white, clenched-grip scrawling transcriptions

                (and this feels like exiting a womb only to look over my shoulder)

             II

                 i checked google mail ten times and

                 i checked facebook six times in

                 the forty-seven minutes be-

                 tween start and complete of the

                 fore(and on)going poem.

                 i also learned the tyrannosaurus

                 rex jaw size (up to four feet), the

                 reason honeybees die when they sting (pride),

                 how the seasons change on neptune (every

                 forty years),  the truth about the breast orgasm (it's true

                 for some breasts), and rosario dawson's height (5'8") 

                 and upcoming releases (too few).
                                                a ground hog day would be a miracle

            III
where do you go when you silent past?

my shoes are always untied and track mud

on the rug. i shuffle loudly, too. 

i am frigid when you are scalding.i freeze while you scald.

i am dreaming while are needing.i dream while you need.

i am needing while you are blanking.i need as you blank.

i am scalding while you are frigid. i scald as you freeze.

            IV

        dollop          -fetch

        dollop                    -fetch

        dollop                             -no. stop. 

the internet wants to date you (maybe) (probably not)

hi, i am the internet. i am interested in dating you.

Existential Option Trading (The Importance of Being Ironic) (Part Two, The Blimp)

Existential Option Trading (The Importance of Being Ironic)

ONE
(Un)fortunately you (I) can('t) choose who (what) you (I) dream (fear).


TWO
I want to use 'I' powerfully
antiglacially, snap-just-like-that
quick and in stride.


THREE
I can't find an antonym for 'choose'.

Il n'y a pas de hors-choix.

Dreaming we've walked grocery
store aisles stalking
perfect cereal. Then: Which aisle 
for toothbrushes? And does soy
milk's cream perfectly 
complement Lucky Charm's
marshmallow? The man pointed but
didn't know what your smile telegraphed
into the pillow later that morning right before I picked
Total out of sky and into bowl.
--
The secret isn't a secret un-
til after midnight's pumpkin hour
when my etched back sits
setting into the range your nails laid,
forcing unknown unknowns' hand
delivering the knowledge of questions.
--
I have stood in my bathroom under
examining bright light, back toward
the mirror, neck craned twisted avenging
loss through understanding
the intent of your topology. How
can we move peak-to-peak - and did
you pack the leather bomber?