(23)

when she grew older
the dust beyond the foothills
spoke
left her completely small

she looked in
tongue understanding at least
and spoke
without reserve or softening

I link our pinkies again
walk outside
speak
without words
all existence lapses
beautifully upraised
to the heart's core
an infinite distance
a memento
for the moment after man's land
grayscales

(22) A Conversation in Tap

Paradiddle Paradiddle Paradiddle Stomp.
Chug Shuffle Ball-Change
Jump Step Clap.
Alternating-Pullback
F-lap F-lap F-lap,
Jump Shuffle Grab-off
Maxie-Ford Step Stomp.

Dug-a-dug-a, Dug-a-dug-a, Dug-a-dug-a, Dah
Dah Duh-duh Di-da
Duh Duh Duh.
Duh-gi Duh-gi Dun-dun
Duh-ga Duh-ga Duh-ga
Dah Duh-gi Di-gah
Duh-gi-dah Duh Dah

(21) I sure as shit don't understand it all

an inveterate rake
(trying to get it right this time)
freely looking
(exhales)
turns back to make quick
(ask me again tomorrow)
to avoid having to have
(it hurts)
he falters
(can't stand her crying)
lips ever sealed
(gasping)
and puts himself away
(falls asleep)
like the splinter never happened

(20)

look back
morbid curiosity may not be to blame
misuse of a great talent, perhaps
or another humiliating metaphor
a downpour of the hilarious hopeless
repeated again and again

you will be who you have to be
there's no quibble about that
lethal existence demands it
but understanding will taunt you
while you live in hiding
from what you could be

(19) Production Notes

It was the usual thing
                                  (turn the tables)
“I need you!”
                                  (he’s only human after all)
So I slipped through a schism of space
                                  (and time)
Like the greatest story ever told
                                  (his ego dictates this)
It seemed like a plan
                                  (so did the fish custard)
To step into the breach
                                  (now go!)
“I need you!”

                                               (shut up)
                                                     (write anything)
                                                                    (have a ball)


“I need you!”
                      (that came from him initially, not me)

(18)

send me to the brink
push beauty on my heart
don't let me fear lack of design
together we are giddy and free
white desire swells
fragile with fault
folly fills and follows us
in the search for grace

(17)

love, I am
I have been
I hope to be

imagine for an instant
with everything you have
and everything you've lost as well
that the tremendous exists
lying in wait for any indication
that you wish to understand
that you seek to be
rather than to watch

I've witnessed the turning point
reveled in it
cherished what might have been
what may be
what can be

share possibility with me

(16)

I wonder about the way in which I watch
to try to see or understand
it's never quite enough
really
to smile and say you're satisfied

in a moment knowledge can be
bigger than the universe
harder and heavier
than the possibility of death

and then what we want
is infinitely clumsier
than it was before
too little and too much
all at once

(15)

I believe in the places between--
the forbidden places
a dream of the end of the universe

I eat fairy-cake for breakfast
and exist in every possible world
careening into infinity before lunchtime
and back again for tea
because perception makes me thirsty

If there was a point to this story
I left it in my pocket
in the jacket I was wearing
at the end of the universe

(14)

i've always had a weakness for the morally ambiguous
a man with a certain sense of gutter charm
is motivating beyond anything
a wall street suit could present
and a touch of the dangerous is tempting
as an escape from the monotony
that stagnates the present tense

there's a soothing inevitability about this attraction
like gravity
or a broken heart
a sideways slipping into the essential
that resonates beyond a paint by numbers existence
with the raw power of unique brushstrokes

(13)

Though his story has changed
in the telling,
he wrote it from the heart

abusing the people
in history
he shows a last form of the past

Coding was the word
though color and the world
itching to strain our minds, plying on the white

leavening the sand with our feet
and touching the rejects of royal
worlds of poesy, tainted
walls under the ground and dried skin of the animal

is this the legacy of
the last poets
shaking from their lame
making? Surely noting what they
have written one noticed

the aching heart of that poet
turned to a heady con, ripping
gasps from life and offering the blessed
in a present for the future

(12)

forgive me if I swear
but the ease of speaking
is something I'm unused to
perhaps even a fault

you overestimate the power of sarcasm
a clear sign of zombie instability
I don't feel the need to threaten the disturbing
or justify the incredibly dangerous
just shoot the focus to the awkward rumbling
the ceaseless unraveling of my social life

who raised you
your subtext
could use a little more sub
and a little less sass
if you please

let's not forgive the parental choices
and the bad taste in my mouth
the engagement of something unspeakable
the confluence of physics breaking down

(11)

I never dreamt of understanding
the swirling ridiculousness
the blowing questions of the cosmos--
to tolerate impossible complications

I crave the irresistible blazes of blackness
between the shining distractions
knowing everything can't fix that yearning

will you hold my hand--
share the wonder in the vast ultimate wish

look really hard
forget about last words
and being clever
and just see for once

it doesn't have to make sense
or have a point but to explore--
it is the universe
and that is enough

(10)

do you remember
can you penetrate
the pieces of yesterday
and tomorrow
coerce the candlelight
to linger without wax

the pretend people stare
they feed on soul
a dream of you perhaps
more exquisite than forever
if you continue to believe
in spite of it all

and I know you--your hands
a kind of different perfection
that exists in between
a harder reality
crisp and fleeting
and maybe just enough

(9)

Year after year
Too much tumbling
Bloomsday shivers
Cravings burning
Refresh refresh refresh
Company cannot banish
Wind whistling, whispering, singing
Wonder, wander wonder
How is it possible
Everyone seems to be
I worry too much
Or not enough

(8) Remember

I forgot myself again today.
It’s become quite the nasty habit, really.
And remembering is never all it’s cracked up to be.
I mean, where do you start?
Head, feet, hands?
You don’t realize how many members you have
Until you have to put them all
Back together again.
In the right order nonetheless.



*Today's lesson? I am not punny.
**Today's second lesson? I may begin adding commentary down here in the pretty italics.

(7)

we own anew the encore
of nova ions
the noble notes no binges blur
in lieu of Bowie another nowhere wish
cue the inch owed
an icon for a vague vision

pinch half again
the bane benches stand and
we avow to owe
everything now here
a view the crow calls home
a new nowhere name never noted

(6)

the faucet's been dripping since yesterday
a slow, steady drip
the kind you get used to
like a clock
or unbalanced fan

I miss you like that
in drips
a slow, aching pain
the kind I'm scared to get used to
to let go of
like losing you again

the plumber's coming tomorrow

(5)

neverway should slow

danger rattles

too much contracting

pushing in

where the pressure holds

the ring

silver and favored

scuffed from wear

tradition

is closer than horror

purple screaming

blue box red hair

the mirror is

empty glass slipping

too many random nights
interrogating

(4)

Our memories like glass absorb, reflect,

and quickly posses history

from its beginning to our end.

Mortals are blessed with

the decoding of the world

through color and art and words

which stain our minds and move our hearts.

Holding the world in her hand,

the poet shakes reality

and lets life fall on the page—

jumbled and ordered anew.

These crystal images refract

truth and shimmer in autumn

sunsets’ glow.

(3)

I want to run.

Believe me, that’s not something I say often.

I’m more the sedentary type.

But right now I want to run.

Need to run.

I want to burn myself out sprinting for something I can’t see—

might never see.

And when my lungs scream for air,

and I curse myself for never using that damn gym membership I pay for,

maybe that’s when the fog will clear.

In that perfect place

between pain and success

maybe I can finally lose myself in clarity.

(2) soon enough gone

one wonders about memories

so pervasive

creeping upward

in the soul

weeding out the delicate

leaving only parasites

the orchids of the brain

feeding

what seems to be

forked

is never quite

so temperate

echoes are never

pseudobulbs

but essentially celebration

of survival

(1)

sometimes the 2 am train passes at 1:13

and I’m not sure what to do with myself

my confusion is palpable

spinning around my dark bedroom

ricocheting off the walls

finally crashing into the alarm clock

with a flash

between that and the rain

tonight

it’s a wonder I exist at all

the disparate bits of me

so spread out 

it would take too much

to put the shards back together