I fling myself
this way and that, you may understand
this flinging
this smashed, this one note that repeats (when)
I tell myself to cry on cue but then I step
backward
I stop
backward
so much to push away / this inconsistent
ache
I spill
but your timing is always
impeccable
the pressure required to release
this inconsistent
skin
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Wake up the Monster
why’d you have to—
I have lost and found
a flick of the tongue
a slip of the hips
(ice be careful)
so
shut up sad background music
you have failed to delight me
I have lost and found
a flick of the tongue
a slip of the hips
(ice be careful)
so
shut up sad background music
you have failed to delight me
Sunday, February 13, 2011
(Please)
observe
a pensive lurching in some direction
and then hurry back as if to erase
that dimension (while if you wait
the wind blows it all back in)
and then hurry back to wait, poised
in some direction as if to point
merely by looking at your own reflection
and wishing fervently
for completion
observe
a sort of poignant thrashing about amid
some nostalgic muck your middle finger
(touché) while (so to speak) if you wait
the wind blows it all back in;
the wind pulls me back on top, the wind thrusts
and parries the wind lurches
pensively I am stuck in the middle
again
observe
I hurry back
as if to erase
the obverse
observe
the handwriting
I don't recognize
that I know must be yours
observe
the ignominy, the middle finger
the point at which
we start or we begin to begin
again
a pensive lurching in some direction
and then hurry back as if to erase
that dimension (while if you wait
the wind blows it all back in)
and then hurry back to wait, poised
in some direction as if to point
merely by looking at your own reflection
and wishing fervently
for completion
observe
a sort of poignant thrashing about amid
some nostalgic muck your middle finger
(touché) while (so to speak) if you wait
the wind blows it all back in;
the wind pulls me back on top, the wind thrusts
and parries the wind lurches
pensively I am stuck in the middle
again
observe
I hurry back
as if to erase
the obverse
observe
the handwriting
I don't recognize
that I know must be yours
observe
the ignominy, the middle finger
the point at which
we start or we begin to begin
again
Sunday, February 06, 2011
I am always doing things by accident
for instance,
this window
this elaborate façade
this drunk technique
imagining a telephone, imagining
an instant of wild abandon that never stops
a fix
I can't pin down but can't let go of
I am always doing things
I don't want to have to prove
for instance,
shining, in the corner of my eye
a dance of light of teasingness
of wishful things you sing when you aren't thinking about anything
except love
the things
I can't pin down and can't let go of
these things I am always doing by accident
(except love)
except love
this window
this elaborate façade
this drunk technique
imagining a telephone, imagining
an instant of wild abandon that never stops
a fix
I can't pin down but can't let go of
I am always doing things
I don't want to have to prove
for instance,
shining, in the corner of my eye
a dance of light of teasingness
of wishful things you sing when you aren't thinking about anything
except love
the things
I can't pin down and can't let go of
these things I am always doing by accident
(except love)
except love
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