Misorder

Misorder 8/27

The

End

Jar

Jar 8/26

Why the smack – like a poker – a pickle?
against my cheek

You are just standing – idling – a bully
without realizing

It’s your smile – or something like it
all is lost – all

Baffle

Yep.


Baffle 8/25

I want to walk in the park in the fall and kick dry leaves then make out in the grass until we have it all through our hair

I want an excuse to buy flowers without any reason

I want to write ridiculous love poetry that I will hate myself for but will still tape on your fridge

I want to doodle while on the phone and end up drawing hearts

I want a reason to make grand declarations of things I may do at random future times

I want to wear your shirts

I want the possibility of being destroyed by you because there would be the possibility of being born again

Stand-up

This poem is mainly about this very famous photo by Nick Ut of Phan Thị Kim Phúc. She was 9 when the photo was taken. Right after snapping the picture Ut grabbed her and rushed her to a hospital.



Stand-up 8/24

In slow now look at the film reels slapping :

            A hose is turned on a crowd

There is no sound, but you can see the mouths opening :

            Bodies are enveloped in foam

This is the moment, there are others :

            The foam evaporates will

A child running, skin coming off her bones :

Kodak 1922 Test

Load

Load 8/23

Place your thumb in my palm
rough the wrists – I want you to hold them
want the nail to dig ‘til white
Use your knees against mine and hold
these legs apart
I want you to open on my chest – a firework
or a balloon

Luminary

I have a deep fascination with fireflies. The little glowing dance they do. The way they seem to rise out of nowhere at sunset and then vanish all day.


Luminary 8/22

Firefly blinks are too much like cats eyes they are
too much the rising falling summer cool evening pulling
from the blades of green soft grasses

Feet catch on the sharps of rocks on the
breaking wave of August rising up over the fields mopping
up every dark space in the harsh humidity

With all these faces in the dark unblinking with all
these tongues licking at the trees that begin to motion
a beginning that motions a dance

Feet are a waltz of toes in dirt flowers dropping petals they are
so similar to everything and the weather is so close
the stars open up and the lights are off the curtains are vines