sorry that was just me, you see
it’s hard to control the exhalations
but once dry I’ll try to spill a
story that seems to go somewhere
while tunneling beneath the foundations
I don’t want to blame this ancient
circuitry or curriculum
but the mean of the few years I’ve
managed can feel a bit mean
and, I mean, I don’t want this mean
to be my main anymore but
I must make marks and some mean
folks may escape though meaning well and take
their crack at rosy meaning until morning
Tag: story
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I dreamt about you last night old bitch
I was skipping work almost enough
to almost feel guilty then later
or was it before I was on
vacation and knew I didn’tdeserve any of it and as I
wrote to myself the best poems are still
to come each word spread to a red-black
blob maybe there was a hair betweenmy golden tines I know you had your
reasons I had mine and for a while
we were the villains in each other’sstory but what does it matter now
you’re dust and I’m the next best thing
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at inconvenient times and steep rates as the records indicate
she still tells me the story whenever we play that game where we’re locked underground for eight to twelve years
but when your time comes you shrug you move you
know what happens to runners then it starts to sinka bit but the bonds still tight grackles robins starlings with young or improving their homes with a simple melody
asking where it all went wrong but we must in
a different way after all wait my eye was pulled by that flash of flesh and dreams of blissful obedience
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I.
His clothes so out of fashion you wonder
if the gentle breeze from the willow will
shatter him into an ant hill of teeth
and trinkets you can sell at the marketII.
Your fabled jewel that could
end the conflict but when
you tell the story drops
of blood fall from your handIII.
Tended with a heat gentle as
breath until the crow bubbles up
soon you will understand her voice
as though you too were from the moon
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New ebook!
Well, e-chapbook, really. I’ve been working very hard on this little collection of a dozen sonnets and I’m glad to say that they’re finally ready.
Here’s a sample. Enjoy!
we ran out of gas before we got there
metaphorically of course the car was
just an ancient generation’s notion
of freedom or some such so later whenwe seemed to be writing a story for
the new employer on the optimal
monetization of the eternal
memes (to avoid the friends convenience made—
their brotips and conversations like photos
of completely uncluttered interiors)we made a slow-motion escape attempt
but were swallowed by the slothy summerand rose at noon to find the cicadas
gleefully gone on their fatal picnicCheck out my books page if you want to see more.
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before I’ve started I
give up on this little
story surrounded
by the almost noise
of air conditioners
slow unseen aircraft
the last breath of
why can’t I juststop me if you’ve heard this one
but no it’s just
from here we see
trees burning birds
thud to the ground
apartments collapse
spilling canned peas
and plastic dolls into
a stream and clouds
and clouds and clouds
other animals 