Bellicose

Bellicose 8/7

At the bottom of her things
                        a box filled with sand

A small piece of paper
                    floating within

                        “This is to present…
your commemorative…

                        historic…
Berlin Wall...”

Tiny flecks of blue paint
                        swirling traced red

It all holds

Old Economy

Old Economy 8/6

In that dream with the fish swimming in the air that were incidental but beautiful
we paid for everything with tow nails painted to look like pearls
The soft folding calcite turning almost mercury under the paint and polish
Some would put holes in them, string a necklace to show off their wealth
in the sun, they glinted like teeth after a cleaning

In that dream with the boats that hovered just a centimeter off the water
we were buying yards of blue fabric that had thin traces of Byzantium copper woven in
In the sunlight they moved in green patterns across the surface, like fish
in coral reefs off of Australia
You could hear fire in there screaming along with advancing armies

We walked the bazzar, tried on fake gold crowns, and bartered for a set of spoons
with our initials on them in inlaid purples
In that dream with the clouds piling up like chocolate ice cream and whipping cream
we watched the rain fall in endless slow motion, dying before it reached the ground
We managed to save our nails by painting them burgundy and wearing Chuck Taylors

Nebbish

This is a joke.

Just to let you know.


Nebbish 8/5

Semite Shoes ™ are the ones with the cool double S logo
they look like lightning bolts – the Nazi kind
It’s some sort of reclamation of a shared history – the
ironic re-branding of footless shoes
They come in two colors – black and white

Aggress

Aggress 8/4

I hermit – make shells from couch cushions
                ridge the glass opaque and bead my eyes into stalks

Do I slime my way to your door – make trails
                along the edge of your shoelaces

Inside I light candles and debate our policies of avoiding
                draw baths and empty them – letting the bubble stains evolve
                into new personal species

Paperhanging

Paperhanging 8/3

Her eyes are visible            between goldenrod reeds
            little frog’s egg eyes            peeping like millet

You want to draw your hand over her            trace her outlines
            with your nail            draw up nipples wrists

The yellow wallpaper            peeling and falling
            has taken its share of lovers

In its time            the soft flowing lines and women
            sang out to numbers            took their hands

Would you run forever in pale?
            tip-toe at the edge            look into the mouth of sun

Raspberry

Raspberry 8/2

One hand pulls the forehead taught
            the other            runs sawing at the skin
the nails chewed down to the pink

His head criss-crosses
            a broken map of Europa’s ice fields
Breaking skin            blood font

And he’s handsome enough to
            think about             fucking through
scratches            sudden neck spasms

Lean him against a subway car
            Push on walls            inside him
His tongue flicking in            out

Cud

The new picture is a sculpture at the Victoria & Albert Museum in London. It was about 10:30 in the morning. The gallery is lit from huge skylights above. I was filled with an odd serenity in the museum.

It was the first place I visited after I arrived. I had not slept for 12 hours. It was a revelation of history and quiet.


Cud 8/1

Tasty in the morning
And in the afternoon
Not at dinner time
That’s steak time