Poison is a menace
your eyes missed my face
and went after me
Not/ talking is love
Not/ talking is trust
Before the sun comes
We lay in our beds and sulk
Poison is a menace
a manager
a blessing
I can’t stand ropes
I give out at the knees
Laser eye defeats cloud
Why does the cloud continue come back?
–4/7/19
decree
If it were to be my way
If it were to be so clearly and evenly defined
If I were to have it be in the morning noon and night
If I could see it clearly and be the day’s guiding light
I wake up and smile at the sound of people enjoying their lives outside in the morning
The a/c running,
My sweat a cool reminder of the fact that I am a living being attempting homeostasis
That I am as fallible as any elm or composted orange peel,
Desecrating as time takes it away into a new form
I am the new form, and I will always be the new form
And being the new form!
I hereby proclaim
That I am confident and curious!
That all friends are important and interesting to me in their own way
That the temptation to masturbate is remote and peripheral,
sheathed,
That the path to love be sworn with missteps and idolatry,
Liminality and recompense,
Trust and
That look that you get when things aren’t going just right
You said something wrong,
And they’re not telling you what you’ve done
(How can I learn? I am not a mistake, I’ve only made a mistake)
That I am the osmosis of knowledge, the loss of knowledge,
The acquisition of new states of being
The flume for which things pass through and stick if they decide to
I am only as boring as the caution tape that lines the paths my mind won’t yet cross
I can only subsume
I am not just “human” or a “body”
I am the idea of myself
The dysfunction of existing within this constrained totem
Let it be free now
–8/4/18
PING!
The poison arrow sinks in but designates the space around it as the source, proselytizer.
For the width of the bounds of my love are infinite in nature and contracted in reality,
Rope-tied and bound to protect me, to
PROTECT me
TO PROTECT ME
NO you don’t protect me
The betrayal of myself begins:::
You are not PROTECTING me anymore you are
PREVENTing me from living with a great love
You are soldering me to and iron bar that I drag on the ground
And
PING!!!!
catch on all obstacles
S l o w i n g m e d o w n
And sure I’d rather lie in bed all day not facing anything, not even facing myself
Not even raising a fist and fighting for myself,
(But shh it doesn’t need to be like that,) it can be a private gradual uh— uh
Like a staircase or the way a plant grows
Or the blinding speed with which LADOT builds their fucking roads! Ha!
I could reach in and shake the motherfucker for all it’s worth!!
What have you done with me/? What have you done with the real me??
I shout at the corpse of a heart,
Molding, wilting,
I was once a flowerbud I was once a seed
I cannot BELIEVE some things but I WANT to. I am reaching so far outside of myself
So. I gradually remind
(Peace be with you)
Re mind
(I am all love, all love you’ve had, you’ve made inside yourself,
You trust yourself, you trust others
You’re not so different)
–7/25/18
fire
there’s a fire there’s a big red flame jumping out of the manhole in the ground, were there men down there who knows I sure hope not, it’s in the middle of the city it’s in a crevice it’s in the dug out tunnel in the earth, the pile of tar that rests on the earth the crust the surface the innards the guts the meat the bones of the land the Tierra, what I know what I don’t know. It’s the big flames , there’s a spark and there’s ignition and there’s the wild wind that blows it down the lane down the stick and the wood that lets it jump and jolt and the spark that starts it all, and the horse kicking in the flames the horse and the cow on the farm with the chickens and the farmer comes out and yells “yeehaw” and the cows moo the ducks cluck, what luck the morose morgue in the basement of the placement was a secure space to make the mint the US dollar the us living together the what we are and what we know and how much of the soul is resting on the sleeve that is seen that is speculated about and how much is used and how much is spared and how the sleeves reveal as they are pulled up the arm to the shoulder, a tattoo and where’d ya get that and who’d ya know and who’d a thunk it and god damn it bobby because that’s what they know and that’s how they learned to sew when they wake up they sweat and they fight different fires from us because they are told one thing and we are told another can we just do it can we get along I think it’s something worth trying for because red is red and blue is blue and purple doesn’t go anywhere it sits on the spectrum in between gamma and spectral infrared light because it knows and it knows as it moves closer to black, the darkness, the hole, the closet, the absence of light, of fire, that the wind was blowing so hard, the intensity of the sun resting its rays upon the skin of some and not of others and the plants that grew and the cities that crumbled and the animals that need different soils and vegetables and nutrients from each other because the clay isn’t enough because the beans aren’t enough and storage isn’t there yet and there’s only so much you can do with a claw and some others and a hole to fill because that hole rests inside each one of them and the fire that ignites it the fire that burns, that’s the intensity of the black of the black hole and the color the absence, but the combination of so many different colors and the absence of paint color the white the filled paper the filled screen and everyone’s eyes but no one’s lips because the closer you get the more the eyes want to close, and why the eyes close when you kiss may in fact be that the lips are in motion, but the lips purse when the eyes are searching, so you use the eyes to search for a soul, you become close you look at your affection and smell the difference and then the lips do their work and as you kiss you chew and as you become sick you throw up and it has to go in and come out somehow I need to dissociate from the idea that this is me or us or we I think it’s a combination of a lot of things that have entered my supra conscious or subconscious and what rests above my head other than the loaded gun of experience and existence hovers a heavy hand holding my hair haranguing in horror the whole of the hunt is descript or nondescript or whatever you make of it and the mothers and the fathers and the sisters and the brothers and let’s not exclude the nuance and let’s include everyone and you’re so perfect to me and you’re a manifestation of all of those qualities of capitalism and you’ll be successful and you look like the dollar to me you look like a whole briefcase of dollars maybe a whole basket of briefcases of dollars and 1 dead 6 injured says FDNY and the whole hole is holy because the fire leaps out up into the hands of the wealthy to deny they ever had it or any responsibility and they want it to be easy and there’s no mutual investment and black lives matter but they’ll let them die at the hands of the police officer who protects them and the subtext of that is a state of apathy for each and every person, the perfection is not possible, said the toad, croaking over the cricket night, there’s no one left to save you except yourself, keep to yourself, pick your battles and do your best, and do your worst, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do but let’s piece this together like a pattern quilt and I’m going to fire your ass and you’re dead squalor, you’re a piece you’re a real piece and a piece of ass that crotch that wicked tight body and the sentimental poison of ash and ask me a question I have my fist raised right to your nose and I’ll bop you don’t say the wrong thing I’ll bop you I know now what you want and you can give it to me too and I know we can be mutually beneficiaries and our deals are real and the flowers and the stomach skulls bled fire for nature and the hymnals that bleed out over the sick killing and the feasts that are prepared that require this sick killing and sang sing sung and ding dong dung it’s the same it’s the same and we’re all in this together so let’s clap our hands and clasp our hands for the lord, our friends, and for some our dollar and the savior that delivers us from this pain, there is no pain in existence, we’ve had it the whole time and how did my parents do it how did my grandparents and uncles and aunts and all above me do this and what power did they bestow unto me and how do I know what love is if I’m blending it with the poison the encounters that do not satisfy anything other than to regurgitate the mutual fear that we share and the omit the pressure is to lie to ourselves, a job a job they say and I say no way I’m getting this done I’m staking myself in the dirt and watching the flowers and the plants grow and doing no move and suing my proven surge of sanctimonious restitution purse surgeon lurve and gorge the gorge the sun the bing bong the sing song and the sweets that lay at Cinnabon counter I pay and you’ll pay for it not so bad let’s get ahead of ourselves right the soul is right behind it and it is in itself and I am I am I am it’s coming right through you’re not doing this and you are and you deserve it for the work and what does the work do for you, it’s nothing more than sitting and seeking, the curiosity that is beside this
–4/7/18
Contour
It’s the contours around you,
When your clothes are off,
When the melancholy and drifting ease
Of the slippery clips and socks and buttons
We don’t remember,
And there’s no question about how, if, or when
When it’s happening and
Like a gust of wind fills the mast
And we each draw a breath and nod
And our hands meet after
And our ribs align,
I’m sighing and an amorphous bug
Drifting in and out of the honeycomb
Snapping in and out of dream
I am pinching myself
You are squeezing me
I am sure as the sand
The sand sweeps in and out
And the rug rubs in the delta mouth
It remembers the distance
The trees in the wind
Softly blowing
East by the mountains
And those mountains
Where you see down,
Where you learned your wisdom
And how I feel not so sure
But you seem so sure
And tell me to feel the same
I’m surely paddling a boat in that direction
I want to encounter it,
No explosions
You are not a speared whale
We are remarkable fish
It’s the contours around you,
That I dream of,
I could scream
I would scare you off to the mountains
So I remain silent,
Waiting for your approach
As solemn as the slow knife
–4/2/18
titles of things
Requirement
Dial tone
Small part
Blanket
Blanket yanker
smart morning
green acre title
bed womb
red room
seriph granule
a sand bar
sleeping is right
arm over arm
hand in hand
eyes on eyes
web
mellow gentle
sentimental
west tie
a comment on the ecology
ecology
biodome
ecosys
large pod
pull and mirror
left in the right
yes to understanding
in the affirmative for the right way
the intimacy of doubles or duos
so pride
vestiges of now
meeting the river
seeing the sea
wading on mind
–2/11/18