to be continued

slow summer strokes with no pets

sleeping on pink couches in the mountains

with two boys and one grandma blanket

with roses

slow the mind to the forcefield of roses

and the proudly burnt satan trees with no leaves

tall wooden pitch forks poking gray

or black

a lightening storm on the sci-fi beach

the sea turtles are laying their eggs

somewhere 

hidden in the dark dunes the water is close

and my ankles are wet and whole skin soft

like an animal with no real shape or place

only dark liquid and open 

like miriam's eyes over, and over

like a phantom living in a children's book illustration

a night setting

somewhere only a few miles long

with a million stars

and a million eggs

babies steps!!!

like a stained glass window

in a gothic cathedral  

a box of joe

before bed 

looking in flat files

concerning:

ejaculation,

modes of transport,

bed sores,

agnosia

in the BBQ

suddenly i need

a container

it’s so big

out here

MS. PROZAC

she is always curious

and

tonight i will file my nails

tomorrow i will be miss Prozac

suddenly it’s so big and dirty

i shit myself on the A train

tonight

on the platform sofa

next to box and window

my dog my dog

my maid my money

there is no soap i do

no washing

there is bread so 

i eat it

!!!!!!

biking uphill to watch you paint a fence

your tapes have shaped my shelves
and the anthology of what you wanted me to hear 
keeps on singing 


back to the beige 
to the sugar and kraut 
to the tall burners and blankets and back 
to the bed on the beige desert cloud 
a crowd of crumbling capitals 
and white outs gone black 
to see a deep tan TV 
and the peach like you 
orange glow'n olive green 
soft one time in a white footed shower
like smiling seals 
in thick candy quiet
loving you in the desert 
with the cold feet from moms 
and our friends
finding pancakes for dawn 
on their blood sugar vacations
from beige 
carpet statements

lattes in the trunk

Dear Basketball Boyfriend,


DO YOU KNOW when you can’t recall the details of a (usually


fleeting) event or interaction that you were definitely a part of  


or definitely witnessed


? ? ?


but the outline but the ghost but the over all impression left


is intriguing and feels desirable


and you feel as if you ghost were a part of something interesting


something desirable


? ? ?


AND THEN OH YEAH (you remember)


just shortly after becoming intrigued and a ghost


you are disappointed by the mundanity of such details


such crystallized impressions


the limbo of forgetting is what it’s like to be someone else


that is what it’s like to be someone else


!!!


Love,


Someone Else

bloated velvet

I live by the super cycles

that spin themselves like silk

they are surprised that I find myself

so often lost

so often short

so never pregnant