TV gives you staph infections. I've said it before &
I'll say it again: a marmoset is squirt-shaped. I used
to tell my brother he could be anything he wanted to
be. When he said he wanted to be a baby bear I told
him to launder the rain. The camels saunter past the
emus. The emus are scary looking. On TV the
Beatles look squirt-shaped & rodenty. They hold
their guitars like eyelashes.
Lets take a train to the coast & wander among the
sequoias & squirrels. We can open cans of broad
beans with hunting knives. We can tell our bosses
that we've been infected. We have a bad case of
Oh no! I fell asleep. I left the chair alone. Nighttime
festers, reddens. The open chord. The harmonies. I
Only piano sounds like this, a handful of dried
petals & heavy breathing. We went to the park &
watched a child try to fly a kite only to have it fall to
the grass. Green is unutterably green on a Fall day
with serrated sunlight. Only a flute can fall to the
green grass with less weight. The flashlight works,
you just have to shake it. The contents of the
canteen curd into daylight. Botany rivals
typography: each object more beautiful without a
context. The stamen pulled from the flower for its
single drop of nectar & ruck.
Piano string makes a real good garrote. Only rust
rivals the way a petal shrinks into paper. Only the
studio walls can hold more piano than throat. A
vocal chord Fall, ripped paper for a voice.
Do you have what it takes to kiss the piano player?
If so, go deeper. Faster. Keep breathing. Go grasser.
This is a difficult font to read, what with the
seagulls screaming over the landfill like that. Your
banjo sounds pretty good, though. Remember the
time dad dropped the handful of ball bearings on the
glass-topped table? Remember how we traced the
movement of the sun with mascara? It's true what
they say: you can only touch a person once. So
you'd better wait your turn. You'd better wash the
bedclothes with extra bleach. And turn the map so
that north is up.
The opposite of geometry is a red wheel stuck in the
creek. You can tell me everything you've ever
learned about the physicality of time. I won't tell
anyone. I know you value your privacy.
An angle is only as good as a bunny's beating heart.
I'd like to be a little drunk before the movie starts.
I'd Like Something Tasty for Dinner
You say fox but I say toxic. You say pomade & I
hold my breath inside a yellow polyester cushion.
Not every kiss can wad up like a boulevard receipt.
Not every skyline can strut like this. Your mouth
tastes closed car. Your hands are shaking like
corrections. You say potato & I say there's a golden
baby on the way. You want to drive to the beach. I
want to tip the country.
You want to know a secret? I used to hide below the
yellow daybed for days at a time. I only emerged
when I smelled grandma's cornbread. And there was
grandpa holding his Playboy centerfold-sideways.
Everyone important has a yellow knife hidden
somewhere. It's not exactly toxic, but only what the
Tell me something that feels like eagles. My
artifice is a guide for you, the trace of the
paintbrush, the spoon on the nose trick. Teach me
the trick with the coins inside the cat's stuff. Fairly
soon we'll have to admit that we've only read tea
leaves for a couple of weeks. Inside an ocean wave
one can understand why bridges want to fall.
Preferably a spectacle, not an oracle: we'll drink the
lead that has me searching for my blanket. We'll
hold new maps to lamplit eyes, shingled with fever.
Beautiful oracle! Terrible bed of cold elm leaves!
Tell me the word that tears leaves from trees. Tell
me the word that wrings sap from poems.
All winter long the snow has fallen among the
chokeberry bushes & you have hidden your feet
inside the wolf's mouth. The wolf with the very sad