December 7 2018 at 3:44 PM
Some bright technicolor watercolor
Splash from 31 years ago. Tubes of
Wet, crossed arms,
The plunge of awkward swimsuit
Crushes.
Roll down that rubber river,
Ease and youth and
Confusion, mummified in some lost
Saturated sun-dried cloud.
December 6 2018 at 5:07 PM
Winter breathes as a bright star.
As an asthmatic wheezing polluted
Lake of exhaust and driving cars.
I'm there, motoring away,
Letting the dust settle as the dusk
Eats you
November 18 2018 at 3:49 PM
rivets tack her down,
aloft along the rafters,
frozen eyes, frosted glass,
worms trembling far below.
paralysis is a dream from here,
serendipitous returns,
the three-mile unfocused blur.
how to climb down,
how to begin again.
letters arrive every four days,
we break them down with
immediate remorse
and climb back up
and close the door with limbic
relief.
August 17 2018 at 9:25 PM
Peace is the long length of a zipper
Unfurling in slow motion, yeah,
You remember that, you remember
16.
And peace is the sawdust stealing
Sound from the periodic
Voice of your grandmother spilling
Gravel over all that memory of
Some memory of time.
Until it’s not there.
I broke my door with your
Blood,
I tailored the weather to blow your
Flesh forward, my hands in that
Stranded hair wreathed in violent
Gritted
Sorrowful
Force.
I’m sorry.
With all that bled regret,
I held your head close to the floor,
I tangled my teeth into the memory of those
Lips, those fingers, I licked all the truth from the
Salt, I parodied your last breath with a
Soulful lung, a sliding toothful pain.
Ah so much pantomime, pretending in
Two-thirds time as the beat scores
Five-ninths down.
I tendered the scenery as our memory slides
Away from the movers moving your scent from
Hallway to bedroom,
To floor,
To humming lamplight sliding
Caricature of what we’re going to
Remember 10 years from now.
And soon, this will all be a Serengeti tune,
Hot in the bar-stool-pentamic tongue of
Something warm, something…
Broken.
I hope some day you wave down the driver and
Not walk home,
I hope some day the Fruit kisses
Your Fruit
And you forget that
Your Grandmother’s lisp is only just becoming a waver
And all those forgotten names are becoming not just
Wisps but
Joy.
Caricature of a Caricacture of
All those wrinkled limbs, we helped you onto that
Ambulance and loved those last
Deep-souled-lantern breaths.....
Doors were closed.
So much sky in the sky, those clouds are your clouds,
And on the death-bed of your youth you will
Remember.....
T'was such a story that your movie
Will never be made.
Tis' ok.
October 12 2010 at 12:00 AM
i went out back to play and was
buried in a swarm of brass--
trumpets trombones tubas--
ricochet copper waves,
engorged wahahahah,
sub-vibrating glass,
spittle and valves and
prostrate glorious
sass--
all surrounded
knees to the ground--
trombones pelting flesh....
amongst the swing-sets,
beneath the slides,
was eaten by the brass and
digested
as an echo frantic and free and
flailing skyward.
October 8 2010 at 12:00 AM
caulked to a chair nine hours and
a 'lord these bones be creaking--
knee to muscle to blood to
rubble--ah mud.
up on the insect board,
nailed through limb yet
quivering still,
the looking glass swallows an
eye.
(laughter would be better than this)
mr god scientist writes another
note.
and upon this speared left cheek
i bury this sitting within some imagination of
need and purpose--
hours to dollars--
nob to nubbin....
thin tendons, taught truths--
endure to the end
mutha' fucka
October 5 2010 at 12:00 AM
bathed in cinnamon and pearl,
you feel again the porcelain eaves strain a-gainst a
'cosm full of wind and weaving grain.
blurry october,
grieved-scratched trees rock and tap the
chambers gloom
--mopped--molded--
you lie in milk
--naked--shudder--tilt--
autumn arches it's back around the fields of the
fallen
teaspoons full then emptied of
spice--
we both cuddled up to this oak and felt it
ripple.
a whistling sigh, drain against flesh,
the splashing as you get up and dress is
rebellion.
July 22 2010 at 12:00 AM
silver along an
aluminum edge, spandrel days
limp
between seasons edged in
purpled amber.
face to the sky,
rolling blind down
white rivers.
left behind but still
remembered,
filter for melancholia,
stories told between
pillow and dreams.
salience and
rarefication.
starlight above clouds.
rolling blind towards a
luminous noise,
river drain, cascade
rumble.
i sense the space around
your emptiness,
silver edged in air.
ghosts unlimber as these
weeks line up and
break
against the rocks of
phantoms.
December 9 2009 at 12:00 AM
downing jars of glycerin and butterflies,
we are pummeling fast towards the
bliss of crashing stars--
feasts upon the dance floor,
torrential buzzing rims,
we thrash as insects against the
morrow-jar.
and where i see your steps in glass i
follow, and where you twirl i
gravitate, and where your pleats groove i
swallow.
our feet as branding irons,
sewing needles, tattoo ink pleading
rhythms to the gruel
we know will puncture our hearts with
anesthesia
in ten-minus-nine-minus
fuck.
fuck.
tacked to a board as the sun
rises i flap in your direction
helpless and wavering.
November 27 2009 at 12:00 AM
"baby don't look down, death is on the ground...."
-- mr. sister
sawdust and ribbons,
skies lap winnowed gaps along these
dropped fruits, clacking rasps of
ill-burrowed winds.
kicking against the leaves,
she knows this is the last poem of
november. creaking boards of floors,
cracked and frosted glass,
holes breathing night along rivets
worn.
cats keep begging in rhythms
still drunk with summer,
bare limbs croon the songs of
shadows jangled.
sawdust and ribbons, she feeds the
flames and stacks the bottled fruits.
stertorous winds ink grooves against the
rising nights. frosts
fester,
somewhere here,
(she points)
and lights more matches as the evening
dims.
November 20 2009 at 12:00 AM
sucking down the cherry
dust of stars
all bathed in bubbled phosphor
silk
leering thin against
glass pandemic with desire,
unstrung.
drought peels away the layers,
blue of tooth and
a-minor-keyed....
kissing floorboards on a
friday night.
wanting to want things,
a dream eats us.
October 13 2009 at 12:00 AM
on your day i spangled the square in
jasmine and lavender plumes and
melted light all glittered-up and
swimming 'round the bubbling lamps and
webbed and clacking trees breathing
sparkles and glowing-faery exhalations and
we dance
along the benches, down the
red-brick cobbled aisles and
curves and confetti-flower rain
flutters all purple-white and languorous and
your eyes tingle upwards from that veil and.....
bells and dusk and melted faery light.
scene and
sharp november--
i sweep your stones.
shuffle your leaves.
kneel with creaks.
know how this
goes.
cliche.
April 26 2009 at 12:00 AM
warmth sploshes up as percussion and
all-a-tingle--
ripe--
we roll out from our lopped cages and
unfold
all juicy, bitten, liquid and
a-splurging
lurid tumbling circus,
frisbees, cleavage,
somersaults, open toes, looped skirts, the
shirtless, the
strings, the
muscled wellspring of bicycles
interleaving and the
curves bathing, skating, loping and
splashing, laughing and
langourous all tucked-up, knit-tight
along the banks of the Charles.
spring, this juice, this un-rolled spindle, un-folded and
a-singular
pooled monkey-buttered-joy under this sun, this huge
group cartweel,
balloons and yellow
upswells. and yes
sex, sex, sex.
everywhere the blooming of sex, the
premonitions of dropped clothing,
the peacock-wagging-waddling
parade of flashing dancing glances,
awkward gestures,
islands of cuddled love,
wayward eyes, posturing and
shy and
breathing simmering
sex.
so dipped, so thrown down--
we grease this downward slither, we
slake and shudder under these fountains,
under these blowing arcing limbs,
(green pearlescent dreams) and
wherever,
whenever
milk-milk-milk this fruit
until it's
dry.
November 8 2007 at 12:00 AM
oh ya just lost it, honey.
fermented november
season gruel,
sun-stark grit and
limbic stones curled and
swabbed
in littered auburn sheaves.
walking this time with slickened steps,
a new-england autumn tosses yellow parchment
down around and
down, a scored and orchestrated
moon-stark-crooning medly of
sloshed and crinkled
falling.
whittled brows
bleached eaves,
clacking-unclacking burlap grooves
yeah oh yeah
you just lost it baby,
knickers all deep, knee-deep in
mulched un-washed un-fastened and
faded ripened gold.
oh you just lost it girl and you are
counting down
four-three-two-one and
counting down
four-three-two
down ah
down un-wearing these limbs,
un-raveling this wind
un-chiming slowly chiming parody,
gravel-clacking holes.
needles fly through empty spaces,
you threaten gristle frost,
throw chilled and slapping slurry
at the panes.
oh ya just lost it, lass,
you've come all this way from that
gilded summer lark
to be just
swallowed in this scouring shivering
unrepentant
december dust.
March 25 2007 at 12:00 AM
Awash in linen filament pastels, she awakes curled loosely
within a mesh of threaded fiber grooves, a morning cotton
tangle of languor, a pattern pillow-stamped and woven upon
one chosen white-pink cheek, the lay of her belly, the arc
of her hip as she rolls towards the other side. Milky white
morning, pressure pooling, the resonant hum of derelict
dreams so slowly bending into silence, those clandestine
fragment worlds so softly funneling away... Saturated--
un-saturated. Pastel dreams, pastel morning, pastel
winding sheets.
One large, stark, crystal-blue eye flares open, wide.
Wide, gleaming, pulsing. One plucked and lucid tunnel eye,
meshed in lashes lapping flumsily at the light. Nothing
compares to this. Conductive clarity, electric singularity.
Witness to this shroud, water in this desert, humming
chords and luminescence earthed, unearthed.
December 10 2006 at 9:59 PM
layers o' layers of liquid flesh,
undulating streamers breathing silk,
curling strings all sticky, tricky,
oiled up and greasy tease,
humming pulse and
lipstick breeze all
licking clean,
what name is this?
what groove to squeeze in?,
fathoms diving deep deep and
deep and these bruises are not badges but
plucked strings, purple love.
and you know it, left to right curves,
that saturated skin all
embraced in lace,
encased in a sundering
softness....
cloud-bearing, soul-searing, anti-friction
softness.
and here, this rhythm
beating,
angelic chorus
heaving,
around this revolution
reeling.
what name for this,
what name for these leagues of an
everything red, mythic red,
blurred and bleeding cremated
red
soft as the air above the
silk,
red as the blood within the
blood.
drink her in, gorge those eyes,
this is as good as it
gets.
November 21 2006 at 9:42 PM
full lidded upwards from those
words, that
euphoric draught
a ghost across unfocused irises,
drinking in,
bathing in syllables,
lapping up each
rustled turn, the ink like
wine, pulp as
ripe fruit.
yes, i buried my wife in a
bookstore and looking up from
those pages she still doesn't
see me.
brief moment, a veil
turning over, an arc of
wakefulness
unfettered,
gradual clock
unturning.
and this is what love is,
that drowning in another world,
another pair of bright white eyes,
and that transition between A to B to C--
parallel universes, alternate dimensions--
is so full of sighing pleasure
i am floored.
October 12 2006 at 9:01 PM
sieve
and you are
pounding the pavement with your feet,
flailing at the sky
bouncing, galloping from
shriek to giggle
to whip-torn sheep-sounds like
yes yes yes
bleating laughter.
and so the phosphors conspire this evening,
irradiance gathered sharp,
moon puddled between cobbled stones--
old city new,
old life washed clean,
skylark midnight
simmmering
pattering
play,
stretching toes and
bursting brain,
chest beating and chest
heaving
bursting
lungs.
there is no power to scream this
joy
and if these feet don't touch the ground while
racing racing
home
who would have thought?
who would have thought.
September 20 2006 at 10:43 PM
cobbled stone,
colonial gestation of
schlock-tock tapping
hooves and horses and
such melted lamp-lit
flakey flecks all
lined and lit and
breathing lamps,
alive and there is
snow so quick to
melting
pouring
past our window,
pebbled bumpy drops and
patches stretched and
somewhere there are
fertile rafters,
golden glows cast and
looming round these pale victorian
limbs
and puddled flame breathes heat from
hearths
and all is gracious good and
buried
deep inside these
granulated
rusty
tangled
un-electric colonial
shadows.
August 18 2006 at 5:01 AM
musty cellars.
dusk alongside
eight PM.
furtive chill,
pouring gutters,
murky pearls lathed in
shuttered dust.
step-around sprinklers
shuttling dog-walking dawn,
empty plastic pools and
book-bag-anxious dreams.
peppered lemon B-B-Q's,
forked hold around late
summer gasp, needle
twinge of lawnmowers passing.
prescient digits,
thermo-coupled gradient
downcline,
thumbs in sun-chafed grass.
July 20 2006 at 2:42 PM
lucent nerves,
humming flesh and lingering
friction.
eye-strokes and
eye dancing,
loose and wayward glints,
unstrung ripples,
buttered breathing.
interface to an
interface,
molded warmth and
accepted weakness.
concentration so
close and potent,
formulations nuclear and
burning.
dermis divide,
hug tighter and tighter--
suction embrace
solvent borders,
fading edges.
July 20 2006 at 2:40 AM
beast of a bulb,
lit 2 AM struggle for some side-swiping
dark against this
bubbled agitation,
fermenting brain-stew,
gurgling murmurs.
replay over replay,
claustrophobic freeze-frame,
stretched parodies,
thirst for a crushing,
a dialogue-crunching smash, a
metamorphosis into some
gluey lukewarm muttering
dream--
ephemeral breathing
dreams.
June 26 2006 at 9:18 PM
we have wrapped up our
pillow world,
propped up our
plush pajama life,
layered all in a lush sunday-morning
laziness.
nothing here but brushed cotton,
shadows with no edges, luminescent
soft-box smoothness.
yes, the pillows have pillows
and we are goose-down floating
amidst conjured bubbles of fumbling
laughter, lazy lilac breezes
licking and tickling our
curled and stretching toes.
big piggy, little piggy,
the market is so far away.
all stretched out, forgotten,
bled away like the traffic and
the concrete and the rust is just
a diffuse haze.
no existence save this
white-shear womb, this heaven of
forgetfulness. Un-wound, healed,
forever safe.
December 21 2005 at 5:56 PM
Solstice....
the downhill slide,
thirsty breathing gulping,
catastrophic desire, funnels
alive and drinking, ground-mulched dawn,
grieved and famished sun-splattered dusk,
raaawwrrrr, it's coming,
that bright-sweet-sugar light,
bliss upon every synapse,
melted-plum muttering
sleep,
and sleep,
and Spring eternal,
fuzzy-soft fumbling things,
and words too big for
words.
December 4 2005 at 7:35 PM
Frigid metal frosted legs,
sh-sh-shi-shivering-blue glacier night,
g-g-god sp-sp-speed global
global
warming.
October 25 2005 at 10:21 PM
patterns in the undertow,
melted light is dripping dripping,
phosphor touch,
white-blue rain,
fire with every splash.
easing,
a-groaning against the battered panes
a-moaning-muttering wind outside
and inside,
oh inside...
warm-spiced melted light.
October 19 2005 at 2:01 AM
Bumbling fumbling key-tapping, slaptastic, mish-mash
2 AM.
Time is either runny or constipated,
flowing and lost or stuck, stuck, stu...
--slap-tap--
on the same same same
second.
Trying hard to remember something,
for the last thirteen years. It'll come to me,
any second now.
September 22 2005 at 9:06 PM
oily string, pink on wet glass,
ripe plumbs basting,
glue melting
electric winding,
sex on sticks, parades glowing
brightly brightly,
night afire in
dark
swimming
sugar.
plucked love, taste as sweet
as liquid phosphorescence,
as ten thousands miles of
ripped clouds.
