The sun salivates.
What I know about the submission?
I’m all hardware and no market.
Art to me:
My rib, you know the war.
What nation can be fed by my fall?
Category: Uncategorized
The Way Things Are
Your neighbors know you better than you do.
My hat is me-
black and white and full of
Hamptons zeitgeist.
On an irritable coastal crag a gaggle of
children considers drowning while their mothers read an Amish romance,
while their fathers surf with mirrors.
I Was a Rock Star
Lights are scarlet away and foamy.
We have a vast space in the night.
Do you remember how my feet
burned with happiness,
my bones black with jealousy?
I was a rock star on the asphalt.
Night Road
Scarlet lights chase away the foamy,
ebony space of night.
Does the road remember my feet,
their burning wide imprints hunting for homeopathic
happiness?
There was such a searing black pain in my bones,
glittering and sharp like the starry rocks in asphalt.
I hauled pain with me like water in those
uncivil days.
Impaired
You always box
Always time.
He is a jazz concert
Do bunny slippers.
Together you the river
The dam was still missing
The flowmeter memory
And jargon like foam.
Open your mouth
And as a family to come
Blue Highlighter
Blue highlighter paradise –
words seen through to in a haze of Prussian and cerulean.
I write notes on dinosaur bones
Shocking all the paleontologists eating my lunch money
in a backyard I wish was mine.
Highlight them in dream blue –
Just the important points.
how to soak January in fire.
how to carry my weight in tears.
Just survival tactics.
I highlight heaven,
hoping I can find it again
so blue and true
A Tree in a Bubble
A tree growing gnarled
inside an intrepid bubble
floating up toward a windmill made of tulips.
How Dutch my dreams are these days
And I always go Dutch with them.
I will pay for my own lead and bread
if dreams will pay for theirs.
What happens to me when I float without roots,
a microcosm of germs and stardust rising toward
my personal zenith?
Butterflies
I am paralyzed
by her black black sewing
stitching me carefully in a case of
artificial sunlight and sodium.
Needles pierce me.
I used to fly.
I used to breathe.
Now I am hollow
and my blood flows somewhere else,
in a distant desert with babies
floating down my ruby stream in baskets.
See how butterflies here bring Dawn,
a wondrously big woman with her hands on her hips?
Cottonballs
A jar of night soaks stars in onyx.
like so many cotton balls in oil.
Beneath the veil of cacophony I spill my secrets
sheenful and bloody.
Inside so much glass walled noise
I struggle to find my mouth
which chokes on cottonballs,
while begging for silence,
for air.
Comparison
Bride of comparison,
you have found me
Living through lacy love letters
to the glowing voice of the world.
I have loved and lived
and lavished
like a euphoric angel,
all over the world.
See how North America quakes beneath my hands?
Hear the tender whispers of my name from Europe.
I am tired of molds and braces and boxes
What They have is not better than what I have.
Always They come with a capital T and claws.
They possess than,
But I hold hands with Then,
And waltz over the sea.
Miniature Moon 