1/17/2017

triptych

                     i dunno
                     what he’s
                     thinking
                     but he’s wrong
                     i hope he chokes
                     ugly and cheap
                     who talks
                     like that anyway
                     and her
                     stupid trifles
                     their both bitches
shaking inside       i’m going home    earth’s peace, rusted
still outside          fuck            is a crooked crown
a smooth steel shell   this            fought against
atomic heart beating      look         yet gained
aching to burst              light     yet worn

12/19/2016

Miami

Strangely and suddenly to John, they plunged in to the stream of conversation, cold and rushing and out of control but not--he admitted so as not to drown in the initial panic--actually terrifying; pleasant, foreignly so, and familiarly so; but still, how did we get here and where are we going.

Jane offered a smile, beautiful and priceless and unpaid for, and John accepted, feigning implicit acknowledgement that it was a gift due, so as not to give away the fact that he failed to fully understand the custom or occasion, replying "Yeah, I've been." (To Miami, it was; that was the subject, or was becoming, blooming like a fire) Stall, recollect, prepare, advance. "Why, you going?" Such rote gratitude.

It began, so it continued, throwing the ball back and forth in the game, the grenade back and forth across the field. Landing in John's hands now, then quickly out, and his wild gleeful horror subsiding a little as Jane held it fearlessly with its blazing fuse, her eyes brightened by the danger, a dazzling kamikaze, and next back to John, all scorched thumbs and fumbling. It's almost out, It's going out, he thought, he reacted, as he played the wild sport, in disbelief of the joy he felt and the skill he exercised, while aching to quit it all lest somebody win or lose. So deciding, John issued inwardly an order as a plea: Stop, and won't that be nice for us, and isn't that by itself enough. "That sounds fun," he smiled, but Jane saw the signal.

12/12/2016

a man is an eager dog
has nothing, but giving
drops a carcass at my feet
chases down a living

a living is an eager dog
is nothing, unforgiving
drops a carcass at my feet
wanting not, unwilling

man's will is an eager dog
flea-bitten, outwitting
makes a carcass out of me
loosed wild, free, and killing

a killing is an eager dog
spent yet unremitting
i drop, a carcass at your feet
a man? a dog. submitting

12/01/2016

etc + taiwan

we’re full up and ravenous
delighted and vomitous
in fistfuls, in eyefuls
a hot purging cycle
more upon more
upon more upon more
upon more upon more upon
more upon more
up, on, whore
up, on, body
this wreck
digests
some less
some left
for snacks
for shit
i’m lovin’ it

———

i want to record (somew)here that i went to taiwan and had a wonderful time. explaining why is hard, so i will just say that my favorite day of the trip was the second to last when
the wind was light
the temple empty
the mountain steep
my troubles petty.
i wouldn’t say
i woke from dreaming
but rather dreamt
a woken feeling

9/07/2016

a slow pour from an opaque jar
with unbreakable surface immeasureable volume unending flow
yet evaporating
filled emptied refilled
from no source for no reason by no one
a viscous joy

unheld, the vessel tilts away
snapping slowly silently the stream of honey

4/22/2016

summer root

wow
we sound good
we sound gold
hey you’re sick of
loud we should be good
huh we’ll catch up good

killing and quickly kept up

find me without the stinking city
slam down the crowd of city gold
each time you’re feeling good
she said she’s coming
the sun is falling
find me inside the
well she’s coming
i’m coming free down
like a fairy tale

kneel down to sun now
the dream is around the corner
a me is not a you now
you say i’m not listening
keep the call out

we sound good

me and you round and sick of
you and me and me and you
unheeding lain out
unpeeling played out
i'm so glow and without
wow we’re so gold not old
waves are sinking
a thought is thinking
could you be good