Wednesday, August 28, 2019

All My Relations



in the morning the cat does the thing
like the cop car on the freeway
snaking across lanes and 
I’m the cars behind her

In the morning you should
ask the day what it needs

when peoples poems
just list the evils

notes from the other 
side of the fence
but

it’s Sunday

I won’t start talking shit yet

in the morning my mom
goes to church
in New Jersey

in the morning 
I think of moss
the undercommons
the universitas
it’s not about me
my dad’s marrying
someone from Atlantic City

when I recognize some
girl I go I fucking
know that bitch

all my relations is
such a treat
like a flat spiral
sucker all the moss
sisters

when I recognize 
someone I should be more 
like robin the gentle
botanist 

think of the morning
of your life
it’s probably over
it’s a sucker

someone said
whatever you thought you were gonna be when you grow up
is fake
we watch double dare 2000 on youtube
my camera is covered with tape
we are being watched by my neighbor
his overripe tomatoes

listing the evils
or 
actually feeling
someone inside you
is your heart like a library
or
a fruit out of season
my friend was scared of spiders in bananas
my friend found a crow feather in a bag of spinach
why is spinach in a bag
but really why is it in a box

its the type of lonely when
you’re doing a job in a white button down shirt
when you also have long 
nails and so many thoughts

lonely like a basement

when I recognize someone I go
mom
she’s the lonely, fearless woman
a manicured wanderer
an entire universe
she’s Tinka, Lucia and Loo-chia
she’s ageless grace
in original costume 
exposed veins
she’s a packing peanut
a vampire
a black jack dealer

the lonely, fearless woman
ancountering men 
on the path
becoming a pair 
by space and time 
alone
an accident
she is quiet but
sturdy in her slides

it’s not about me
my second manifesto
second man I've 
seconds left to
the path I thought

the Payless 
he Popeyes
the path mark

secondly
don’t try to write about PMS
it’s the mug at my old hairstylist
a puffy cage
a root system

the city 
the genre
the show

I go I fucking know 
this town

the toxic 
the sexy 
the month

the baby
the eggs and
the dumplings

the night 
the heat and
the T

give advice but also
same
we all miss the morning
the candy

what to do  
with the desire to party

peanut butter cup rash
Veruca Salt
rolling

the wedding
the motives
are murky

the deed 
its done
the shooting

its urgent 
stop saying
its murky

paint it in
oil so it
never dries

would you rather 
sleep on this panel
or ask the day what it needs

remember
the root system
the radio

the core
if the heart
were a planet

what would the morning
have wanted

a year of eclipses
strung on a necklace

beads on the floor and
the pearls aren’t yours

we say we're not crushing
or fucking foundation
interconnection
remember we die

I remember trying to open to the door for the dog

words turn to stone so
go skip urgent in the river 
when you’re done with
the thing
saying urgent so many times
like we have more time
it's throwing the rocks
at our ears
murky motives
erosion
crumple the script 
like a cartoon

abolish this routine
abolish these condolences

we are all connected
and It's not an idea

who wants to lead
who wants to harness
who wants to churn
who wants to do it
we have food leftover
at the end of the night
who wants to get the bag
who is going to disperse 
who is going to invent a charger 
for whats dead

someone said 
what you thought you were gonna be when you grow up
doesn’t exist
who is going to sift

fuck mastery

the new job options are
inventor of recharger
recharger of what’s dead
composter of poison
the braider of dread
you can be the day asker
the morning burier
the night juicer
but
the woman in the white shirt
will be worshiped 

today my family is the shape of a vase
its not about me
the root system
the death of my cat
I can call my dad and
he will know
this might be the last time
he will understand
in this way, 
the bottom of the vase
a traffic jam

if another cat dies
it won’t have ever been his
he will only know the
death and not cat
the wide opening up top

Cucumber eats
rose petals like they’re chips
she loves fresh growth

the way an era
gets compressed
makes me Open the curtains
and take off my pants

posts of
quotes from
Anne Frank

the composter of poison 

the paper balls
in the bin

a poem 
finishing itself
in scraps
the spindly shreds
of collage, swept
into the trash

my translator said I have a few 
options for edge
edge like cliff, edge like
corner
edge like 
the far end of the room
or edge like
border 

Saturday, August 24, 2019

timelapse pinecone

in a flat fake world
we feed on the feed
we really keep
pressing the button
like lab rats

he just wants to collect charms
and hear them tinkle against each other
that sound is what he needs
it is tinny and cheap but we all need it

sun or dumb
phone or screen
touch or together
alone
timelapse
pinecone

Sunday, August 11, 2019

Loona






the waxing moon sits with us while
we eat our dinner on the balcony
when I look at her I think about
all my female friends, the ceramic dish
Celia made me a mini full moon
with finger marks as craters
I use it to burn candles and wishes
written on silver and gold leafed joss
paper listening to Goldie’s “Timeless”
album again it’s like a time lapse of the moon
rising in a movie, my partner’s discarded
contact lenses in the toilet bowl
a pair of shiny divots in the water
St. Lucia style presentation but floating
and bowl, not plate. carrying plates of eggs
Benedict at my new job, dreaming new job
dreams at night, rolling along smoothly
superstitiously






Fantasia Violas

I water the plant
and the flowers face the sun again

Friday, August 2, 2019

oh dirty


when I recognize
some girl I go
I fucking know that bitch

all these earthquakes
in my body
pulse on the front
of my hip

how am I not gonna remember
everything I did yesterday
but still wish I did more

remembering bikes at night
having one friend
lazy afternoon
hazy
cow sound

I know a place that's quiet
except for the daisies

craving new york
like a fucking donut
craving the gaze
jazz
a long symbol

but then
driving up the coast
my "blond" hair
blowing in my eye
my arm is just a piece
of me
and somehow I'm not
throwing my identity
against a wall
the classical music station
the ocean!
they said
anti-road rage

I literally hate the guy
who hovered on the shore
behind me
in my rust thong bikini
I saw his friends egg him on
he's preying on me
he's being a vulture
and there's no way
around

the warm warm
water the warm
cloudy evening
the shark sighting
care or

I've had these same
summer blues since
skaters
cigarettes
sunrise
and probably before

people drop off
care or
revel