wriggling away under the stars leaving a trail that grows regret farther down sticky heat where tricky verbs slip on the ache’s verdant oasis and drowning is back on the table
-
dancing figures in smoke from the city of dry leaves in my chest
-
through the night creaking subtitles add to the store of kitschy collectibles much like nothing in the cellar you can remember
-
long shadows make
us giants in late August
a little cool mixed in just
enough to dream of
pumpkin falling leaf
crunch scent cicada
-less nights the full
moon through bare trees
-
out of the limitless well but let’s wait until after the weekend’s fun to contaminate the seed cakes of our most recent obsession
-
on the last page of the notebook
steadied by a thick
stack of New Yorkers
the pen
but the dog in her cuteness
the urge for coffee what kind of
is that a
the dishwasher needs unloading
and the heat flows out
from my fingers over
ever higher rooftops
-
sometimes you just want to let the poem glide away but you’re afraid of what it might say about you though you know everyone knows already but that’s hardly the point of all the wasted nights developing bad tastes into the tender and pastel dawn with who can remember at this point all the lives you meant to live the expeditions and raids the ballads campfires recitals karaoke bars and I forget where I was going with this though that leads us full circle down some drain
-
I say you because I can’t
say me
I mean I’d rather not the little
electric shock when we
lie the air in the room
not quite light or true
why not invent another I by which
I mean you and sacrifice
this it for its shortcomings
and oceans
of weaknesses but
maybe it’s not as
dramatic as all that have you
stopped to consider well go on
what were you going to say
other animals 