Sunday, August 28, 2016


*oily black duck ("2017")

no one has their shit together at this passover seder
everything is all wrong, everyone is standing
not sitting let alone reclining, everyone is chatting

this year's plague* is just my right height
I notice I am the only one with blood on my pinky
and so I dramatically drop some onto a cocktail napkin

2017 comes too close to me and so I run into the woods
it's still winter, tiles of hard snow checker the ground
I drop the wine, the blood, all my joy red around my feet

Friday, August 5, 2016

Treat's Moment

last night demons
this night music
my head on the chopping block
I look to one side and feel

Crazy Cloud

wanna roll around in the country
on the tree tops
could be anywhere

top-spinning gloves
arm protectors
women's bodies
burned in patterns of flowers
from their kimonos

Tuesday, August 2, 2016

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Cake Egg 

tall boy on the train
I thought we'd see the hills
I sleep in jeans
feel thirsty, bothered
eating a cake egg
it's all the industrial
people places

again a little thing like
a bleary eye
fucking the fantasy of
anime views

Walking Up In The Morning With Only What's Inside Of You

a scary taxi driver
talking to me
saying thank you for riding with him
I'm sorry but I hate you and I'm late
because of the time difference

I left the mumbling driver and
passed through the flimsiest of doors
collapsing like a Japanese fan
when I touched it

Miss Her

I know so well the body
of my childhood friend
how she wore her rings and
the visible vein

One Hour Island

following a wave out
the boat makes the sound
of all the car windows open

I'd like my brain in the foreground
of a photo not so much my face
but they are the same
smaller islands behind me

it feels like someone important just died
with the sudden pastel mist and
the birds treading air in the clearing

maybe I should get tattoos over such
visible veins
large dark distractions
would I miss them though
the blue

Dirty California #1

can passion be poured in any pot?
eating my breakfast around a bowl
of rat trappings

the guy on Figueroa with his face
sliced in half
makes me need to sneeze
I understand 
the differences in
smells of pee

is it the light or a yellow house?
write something so soft
and light as a feather
how do you say

I’m just on this really beautiful walk
with every other house Boo Radley's
by Disney and our mailbox is full
of shiny red cherries 

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of being prepared in the rain
and saying one's own name

So Far

it's a nice cigarette city
old rusty trucks, umbrellas
and ponchos scootering
with sandals half on

That's Nice  May That Linger In My Thoughts #1

incense and peppermints
a strong urge to go to the gardens


so that was spring
a single moment of rain
one street of purple trees

May I Thark You Need An Attitude Adjustment #1

the world is so fucking dark
a broken dim switch holy shit
I can't even move or I'll cry
from lack from of distraction

a fly is interested in my bloody napkin
and I think I'm gonna throw up

and even my view is so narrow
as the strip of light in the morning
that hurts his eyes


how maintenance inhales time
a soft mass of fractions


breathing chest
I'm right here

Again Bring Back Ur Life

am I dying in China?
dying a little bit everywhere
all the time but

not reality until close
non reality implodes


as unsurprising to die as to find
oneself in Japan

Monday, August 1, 2016

Olive Tree

A cobweb shining between the table
and the chair in the morning

My dream last night said
God is a girl dancing
God is a horse in the city

I don't want to write about my family
The stories repulse me from every angle

My little sister is disappointed
that my teddy bear doesn't have more to say
But he and I have an understanding beyond language
We want silence
Daydreams and private thoughts
I tell her Yellow Bear is a zen master

As the passenger in a fast car
I imagine laying my eye against the metal freeway partition
Laying the inside of my wrist on it
Delicately, to slice

To distract from the slicing
I look for God in the olive trees
Animated by our speeding past
Olive trees older than Christ
Grown split and twisting
Growing into powerful witches
Into shadowy Gothic doorways of churches
Into the perfect houses for a spirit
To settle down and dwell in
Maybe that's what Ikkyu's temple is like

Jesus didn't have to say
God is an olive tree
maybe he did, I wouldn't know
But the people who planted the olive trees BC
were probably doing fine without Him


A sunflower taller than me
I stand under it
and imagine it as a shower head

The iron structure of the bridge from the window of the J train
looks like X's and O's against the pink sunrise