30 June 2011


Pannier 6/30

In the painting
Renoir has made Paris
a city of umbrellas
which I can’t argue
And sympathy lies
with him because
who hasn’t seen a field
of black canopies and not
wanted to take a photo

The woman without
has a large picnic basket
but swings it as if empty
she is smiling and has
admirers –

She is delighted by the rain
by the sudden kiss to her cheek
that she had a basket
of umbrellas and sold
every one –

29 June 2011


Roach 6/29

An arm
Dark lines running up and back
You can pull
Follow them to the assembled heart
Follow them out
To the bedrock and then
Through the earth
Where they encircle some
Tibetan monastery before floating
Into the sky
They connect to the sun
At each hand
Holding the body
Years below –


Identity 6/28

I wander these streets and I am calm
I am calm unfulfilled but so calm
I walk until my feet hurt Millbank to St. Paul’s
I think about walking east but what does that accomplish?
I begin :

Here is my dirty palm
It has been all through
the subways streets London
I feel that washing is erasing
I take a picture of a stone
by the Thames
cracked lengthwise
and covered in pink
a kick and it’s in the water
I sigh and sit on a bench for hours
what is this empty
the space between ribs
that I can jam a finger
is there a pocket of ink
a blasting nude lightbulb
I pull the cord in the heart
walk towards Westminster
I begin :

Why London?
what is this place in time to me
who are these foreign faces
and why am I asking them
to heal whatever bald spots I have
I want to say I am
walking that curve of the world
but the cobblestones are uneven
my ankles crack
and I smell endless flowers
slowly ending their bloom
the petals make an oatmeal
on the sidewalk
they are pink white browning
it reminds me of frosting
which reminds me of
the swirl on top of a cupcake
which is somehow the dome
of a great church
I begin :

This is a great book
the pages skin pulsing
the letters stained
burns immovable
the story unreadable
1000 pages long
unknown to even me
is that some statement about life?
I begin :

To wonder if any statements
can be made with a straight face
I am covered in flower petals
pink like a newborn
I guess my age and count people
who make eye contact
which manages to fill
a small portion
seems to erase the smoothing
out of time
the wandering feels forced
a nonexistent period
I keep scratching
that wares like a blister
the soles of my feet ache
and I am as calm as butterflies
I open
pause my colors in the arms of the sun
and close them to the earth
in tree shades
and when the rain comes
I suppose it will wash
and I guess there is the answer
what lies in the under layers
that fall away in London in rain
is the silence
that creates just the right amount
of noise
to let you sleep through the night

27 June 2011


Supercilious 6/27

There’s those women
I would call
Queen type
whose faces are narrow

As they age it gets so British looking

I’m sure these women
are kind gentle
friendly even

as I sit in this café
watching them sip coffee

I wonder...

26 June 2011

Middle Line

Middle Line 6/26

You sleeping idol
I press my hands
along your sides
and attempt to
smooth your flesh

The cool light
turns you into a field
of hills

These are your muscles

A hidden valley
at your thighs
everything in that
blur sheen

That proves your blood
still burns in there

I run my finger
along your spine
and count them off
one by one
pennies in a jar
dropping before dumping
into a coin counter

There is a hole
in the blanket
hovering over your skin
and the halo of your hair

An altar painting

That cold line circling
your head

The day is somewhere
out the window and moving

on your plinth
that is my bed

There will be only this sleep
This finger down your
brown back

25 June 2011


Slenderly 6/25

I press my hand against the glass
Feeling the seam where pane meets pane
It is razor thin my skin can barely press
Into the space I doubt a credit card would fit
A credit card does ft and sticks
And will not come out
On the other side a god of destruction
Sticks his tongue at me
It is cracking play-doh
It is gum on sidewalks
Pink and grey and bumping and terrible
I flap my arms in confusion
I am a bird looking for dead young
Raising a cuckoo as my own
Pulling and I am afraid the glass will crack
Or an alarm will sound
An alarm does sound
I get the card out in time to be asked
Who what when why
Be looked at incredulously
I’m always incredulous
I explain
Skin and glass a space that needed to be filled
I sigh and leave the gallery

Yellow Birch

Yellow Birch 6/24

Everything is fire : autumn
we make another drive to another hospital

Picture tall thin white trunks waving yellow lanterns in a hurricane

The woman in the bed is so old looking : translucent skin
an echo of the grey sky : her eyes scan me for worry for something
I can’t explain I have nothing she is stronger then I am

The room is dark florescent light only makes it darker

The first snow falls across fields : silent it reminds me
of things I can’t quite remember : everything smells like compressed air

Burnt white crumbling paper

23 June 2011


Sassafras 6/23

Bubbles in my nose
I take the straw into
my mouth            blow
and froth the brew
Somewhere out there in the woods
a deer roots                        breaks bark against antler
The smell pushes air
It            breaks            over the mountains
like snow
coming off the Delaware water gap

22 June 2011

Silver Maple

Silver Maple 6/22

Tap root
            I stand in a field and wave my arms accordingly
            I burry my feet to the ankles
            I paint my face pale yellow and try to look imposing

Tap root
            I stand on one foot and center my being
            I plant my soul in my root and think of red
            I cover my body in gauze and float in the river at dusk

Tap root
            I stand at the edge of the cliff and
            I bare into the wind and
            I close my eyes to the coming whatever

21 June 2011

Nano Computer

Nano Computer 6/21

In the ground
dug up : for science!

For personal edification

A hive of ants : who scream on the side lines

Here is their farm full to breaking with fungus

Here the unmovable queen staring at this new light

Now : fill it all with concrete
to display in a museum

Never mind a million had to die
that colonies collapse without the center

Never mind how it’s all going to be moved


Put-away 6/20

So rare
Ben Johnson

19 June 2011

Black Locust

Black Locust 6/19

Worker-tree soil fixer and rain predictor
Fold yourself and tuck-catch the water in your leaves


Suspensory 6/18

There is anger in my shoulder it is floating and the shape of a hand-mirror like a fish or frog it manages to never be caught and like those soft mucus animals the little boy in me wants to smash it to orange pulp

17 June 2011


Winding 6/17

There’s that scene in that movie
where this kid films a plastic bag
floating and it seems alive and
it seems tragic somehow and you
want to cry over nothing

This is a tree falling into the road
splintering into small spears that
may as well be glass this is a
glimpse at that secret world that lies
just beneath the surface

It’s a Buddha of gold covered in
plaster for centuries only to be sprayed
with water and broken open geode-like
there is the bag and the inside
of the bag filling with breath

It is a jellyfish in deep water
becoming the only source of light
it is the unseen made real
finding out your ancestors were
hung as witches

16 June 2011


Resistant 6/16

If I leave you naked in my bed
                        go to work at 6 AM even

With my passport and some money
on then night stand

I don’t know your last name

You will still be here when I get home
                        even if it’s 10 hours later

I understand the desire
to lay in my sun for a moment

I do it Saturday mornings for sure

This is me needing to unsex

Put on your clothes and make sure
                        that my money is still there
                        when you leave

15 June 2011


Warped 6/15

You can hear the downstairs neighbors fighting
through the floorboards and if you get down real
close to the nails you can see them pacing with
raised arms and pointing fingers

She has red nails

He is wearing those waterproof gardening shoes

The light is coming from another part of the room
it makes shadows that look like noir films and
haunted amusement parks there is a yellow strike
across the center of the floor where a doorway
floods the space because light is not unlike water
these old apartments are definitely not ship-shape

Old wood floors smell like time like feet and worn
things like the ocean and that old shirt that you
can see through they smell like dryer sheets after
they’ve been used

The grooves are epic

Nail heads are little black eyes

They have left the room below and the yelling
becomes muffled and a door slams and a TV
turns itself on and suddenly there is Spanish
a telenovela they were yelling in English but
maybe they weren’t

The cracks in old wood definitely turn things

14 June 2011


Hive 6/14

At its center
it is one breath
pumping in
and then out

The sound
of their wings
is unfathomable

There are wasps in Japan
three inches long
that invade and behead
any other bee in their area

They can kill men
these little alien helicopters
they do kill men


Troop 6/13

A large group of men in their white uniforms crowd the subway platform

They look like birds waiting for something

Nervous they have their hands fiddling at their pockets

When the train comes they don’t get on they just rearrange their formation

12 June 2011

Non-durable (H.C.)

Non-durable (H.C.) 6/12

The line of water is so solid the little ripples
make faces back

The edge of the boat is low enough to hop over…

I am weak there is no bridge that
could take me to the farthest shore from here

My ego deflates in the salt air the rocking is green…

Air is thick in the back of my throat the water
is oil is glass I am dropping myself into it

Surface breaks into a field of super nova-ing stars…

Tell me the weight of forty-year-old men in water
whisper incantations to freeze the surface

To break the fall…


Nationalize 6/11

The news cycles
and those towers
stop falling

An oil spill bubbles
War pops and
fizzes in the east

We are angry at
everything and
culpable for nothing

10 June 2011


Catenaccio 6/10

I lock the door

unlock and relock

five times

I pulse through my morning
where I stood when the light
was dancing across the floor

I lock the door

unlock and relock

five times

09 June 2011


Blink 6/9

The world is purple underneath
is burning

The sky rips open and little hands
shoot down grabbing handfuls of soil

Letting go is a step

The world flies up out and into space
the fire releases everything
from everything else

08 June 2011


Particular 6/8

These words are Higgs Boson
breaking against walls of a collider
splintering into light and color
retina pull every letter
everything capitalizes itself and dots the iris

Here is the finite point
it is a vanishing moment
everything blends moves and converges
the floor is a pile of meaning
and taking it in is a storm

07 June 2011


Hurry 6/7

The voice on the other end is dark, angry
                        we know you have to go to work
                        we know where you park your car
silence –

I sit expecting someone to smash in the window
beat me into the concrete floor
nothing happens, I sit for minutes that feel like hours

I listen at the door, check the peephole
I open the door and look around
There is a dry erase board on my door
in thick red lines faggot spelled out

I close the door, chain the lock
I move a chair, a desk, a lamp
in front of the door
I pick at my elbows nervously

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, I call work
I am not leaving until sunrise, everyone understands
nods, goes about their business

06 June 2011


Monosyllabic 6/6

I have a hard time expressing these things – the way streetlights are the color of circus peanuts – the color of night – how it’s black but blue but velvet but deeper then deep but right in your face

How much I care about your hands – you can feel the ridges of your skin – it glows when you sweat and is the color of smoky glass


List 6/5

a – appendix
b – banana
c – cunt
d – dainty
e – elephantitis
f – funk
g – gelatin
h – helios
i – igloo
j – jocund
k – kaleidoscope
l – luge
m – melody
n – nerves
o – optical
p – press
q – quiche
r – road
s – sieve
t – tribulation
u – under
v – vocalization
w – water
x – xylophone
y – yo-yo
z – zoo

04 June 2011


Gallop 6/4

A dog off a leash running through traffic
its fur a glossy chocolate brown
the muscles under its skin bulge and twist
its tongue lashing the air between cars

The world breathes but cannot release
the pressure in this humidity
The dog’s skin blends in with the car tires
and the sound of honking is lost behind
the sound of the dog panting

03 June 2011


Involucre 6/3

The bench is uneven beneath me
The night is misty – everything smells cold

I pull my vest around me and look
to the faces of the people walking

It is late at night and New York is going home

Eyes don’t contact – it’s an unspoken rule
the second you connect there are needs to fill

The color of streetlights is the color of cantaloupe
and I want to pass it among the bodies of Brooklyn

I count the bones on the sidewalk at my feet

I feel the boundaries of my body heat
this is a suitcase – I carry the daylight with me

And pass it off as deep love
the buttons on the case is heart-shaped

I walk the stairs to my apartment and slide into dark


Pressured 6/2

We are cans of soda
beading sweat in the heat

We are fire extinguishers
aiming at the sky
raining down foam

A bowl of ice slowly
turns into clear water
pours down the sidewalk
and dries instantly

Night will come
the fires will be put out
and both of us will rest
laying in our damp beds
sweating frothing to sleep


Detent 6/1

along the edge
of my pants

when I said
no funny business

Your fingers
on my shoulder
were enough

Could you hear
the sound
of my mind changing