song – other animals

before the day when the day if
but today
let a song slip through your fingers
find that last breath
barreling toward some release but
the sand in your
shorts the ice cream begins to melt
for a second
you forget that this is the way
the world moves and
that’s not
quite it either there was a kind
kind of light maybe
it falls and smalls and
smaller the world
spins people go
to parks interviews
you hear a voice
but the words garbled
maybe with a
little work but
that’s how it all
starts again freed
from one hole
you fall in another

All the Parts

I
as in a dream in which we must play all the parts but self-consciously the work doubles and suffers as he turns to drink and loose video games

but unlike this dark wood newly sprung up around the house the chance of coffee or anything decent for lunch recedes

when we were stranded beneath the white waves it was only those voracious years of romance novels that saved the ship and sailors

so once properly cooled and decorated the cake of my previous actions could still prove delicious

it was never meant to last as long as it has though some seeds only sprout after a fire we never knew needed so much tending

and we started off so strong but whether we like it or not we’re in a purely habitual forest now

perhaps this is what the song is really meant to be about or could be under slightly different meteorological conditions

II
a dream self-consciously suffers loose

wood around the house of coffee or anything for lunch

beneath the waves of romance novels that

decorated the cake of my previous could

as long seeds sprout a fire so

strong whether we like it or not

perhaps this is what is meant to be

III
as in a dream we play all the doubles and drink this dark coffee beneath waves only years of romance novels saved my previous actions never meant to last as long as though some started off strong we’re in a purely habitual song about slightly different conditions

IV
in a dream

this dark house

beneath waves

my previous actions

after a fire we knew

started off in

perhaps this song

we find the prized water. Though its song, etched in rock,

I lift the pen but why my eyes slide down this poison face

but the sound of a bird I can’t
the glow of the sun
sinking what
else can I say

I waited too long and they’re already cleaning up so I grab some trash and throw it away they tell me to keep moving

when I slept in the forest those long years between research grants

salad days between immunity and editing

people always said I gave up too easily and mostly through song for some reason but that’s really none of my business you see I’m only paid to write these instruction manuals

leafing at monster cello sorry
it’s these new plant-based teeth

and the weight of this uniform from lack of sasquatch in the spring

did you see it that time like a flash of silver at the corner of your eye but never mind it was nice to see you again and we really should get together and no that’s OK I have utensils at home

in my nose old bookscent a torn bag of evening song longs for cool my life somehow still here

the sudden song. A beauty that—but the road in need of repair

day one. The towers toppled, but the sweet sparrow’s song

you saw in the last chapter the song of this species fetched a remarkably high price on the black margins now the mistake returns to take your teeth

of course we hope it remains flexible though there may come that sunny cool day when the light breeze tousles the heavy heads of new daffodils and the dark hungry fish hooks and songs of the condemned will

the world a blossom
I make up a song
for my dog