as I was destroying the pickup
of the punk who offended me
there was a surge of strange energy
and I started to grow and soon found
I could crush cars in a couple
of swats and then the big box stores
were in peril and whole cities
grew craters and ranges were crumbled
to adorn the lonely plains. It was
exhausting but necessary work
and when I was grand enough to grasp
the blue green grape between my digits
one more overly adoring pinch and
it’s lost in this black sparkling soup
Tag: work
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Perhaps there is something more, but with
the pressure of an undigestible
chicken knuckle cartilage nugget
pressing perhaps a breathless sip of
weed killer with lime, but no, that’s notthe monster I want to feed though a
look at my neglected hooves shows me I
have made the usual mistake of
trying to coin a word thatmeans checking to see if the dog wants
to learn to dance as a small way to
lengthen my displeasure with this workwhich is far from interesting, but
keeps me flush with fresh digital badges
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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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always starting new epics but never
finishing and the work somehow better
for it. The bastardbut how do you talk to that hateful child?
He turns every knife into praise and gold
for his flaking skinnot enough is made of his resolve to
deny the diagnosis at every
opportunity.They say that those under the southern stars
rarely fish but rely on the viscous
writhing things wrestled from clouds.
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as I write with one foot
stuck in dark mud the otherunresponsive for reasons
I can’t discover lightsflicker throughout the day I’m
more full of fewer thoughts withair enough for me to ascend
the brilliant sharp mountainI have kept my pockets empty for
I have kept my back straight against throughyears of small work and I
see the check on its waybefore I’ve ordered it’s my fault
I should have gotten here as soon asthe neighbors finished dancing
on our ceiling and the skychanged to business casual blue so with
my knuckles sore I crack another nutbut what if one thought survives
somehow the pressure of spaceas the small stones crawl from the sea
wall after the grey is goneand we work into the overhyped
night sponsored by what you would ratherremember a castle visited
through a dream that always asks too much
other animals 