Thursday, May 31, 2012

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



Tuesday, May 22, 2012

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

!!!!!!


Friday, May 18, 2012

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

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Tuesday, May 8, 2012



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













Sunday, May 6, 2012

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