my new distraction
covered in early morning firewords
strays hidden from the chandelier
my old distractions
cling to the earth
how my tired feet forget
their many arms
how loose strings sting
invisible
(2007)
covered in early morning firewords
strays hidden from the chandelier
my old distractions
cling to the earth
how my tired feet forget
their many arms
how loose strings sting
invisible
(2007)
when i got the call
that they took you off life support
i was awash in theories of stardust
writing songs about
the galactic dance
that is this
maze of life
when i heard the details
my words turned
as dry as rain in africa
my song
like a balloon
popped
out of breath
out of water
out of life
the universe evaporated
the black hole
in my gut
slowed everything to a halt
i stared at the moon
and waited for the sun to purify something
anything
II.
in the morning
when i slept
i dreamt we rode elephants
through deserts and deserts
of never-ending-story-nothingness
that we marched backwards
through time
for hundreds of miles
towards water
until we both disappeared
III.
when i woke up
i framed your crooked smile
in the form of a tattoo
on my left arm
a pitch black heart
lightning
dividing it
in half
(2007)
you sat terse and anxious
as if your reluctance could accept the
sorrow our parents could never admit
and your sleep echoes hatred
but your arrows
and your windmills
and your long spears
beg to differ
(2007)
please report to gate A
if you are alive or not sure if you are alive or dead
please report to gate A
if you’ve committed suicide
or if you’re not sure
if it was intentional
or unintentional
please report to gate A
dear passengers we are offering a limited service
for those of you who know for certain
that you are dead
all dead passengers will receive a free flight
to wherever you’re going
everyone else please report to gate A
if
for whatever reason you believe yourself to be alive
and likewise very much not dead
please refer to the manual
‘how to be dead’
if you would like to contest your death
please refer to the manual
‘now that you’re dead’
if you have any other questions regarding life or death itself
please refer to the manual
‘so, you’re dead’
all other inquiries should contact the hari krisna’s
they are located near starbucks
(2007)
on the bus
to your house
you were
yellow roses
and full of surprise
me picked daisies
and i played you
three songs
i recorded
on a four track
but the poem
was the kicker
we sat in the dark
of your ceiling fan
and laughed
at the silence
(2007)
we let our ties slip
undid our tucked-in shirts
and cut loose for the beach
at Saturns
after the sun had set
we saw a flash of crimson
on the horizon
and we swept our tears into
the tide that
scotty had tossed his
father’s ashes into
we chased our hearts
like shots of liquor
through back rubs
and moon howling’s
to quench our thirst
your favorite songs
in our enormous emptied bellies
ached like hungry’d ghosts
for some kind of
perfect nostalgia
ached
full-tilt memories of you
and not
your accidental death
(2007)
throw in the towel
wipe your brow
think about storage
about your photographs
the next ten years
sip your tea
lean back friend
do not worry
take your time
get married
it couldn’t hurt that much
plot your land
you gotta grow some roots
you gots ta learn
the nature of trees
gotta sit the fuck down
and start singing
you gotta get comfortable
first
so please
by all accounts
let the love in
clean sheets mean a lot
to a guy who sleeps on the floor
you can always
iron it out later
(2007)
rented a beach house without consulting
photographs i won’t touch (can’t)
spent all afternoons chasing trails of
hidden cobweb notions that
could of built our church
but the old man inside me sleeps it off
as if i could puke you out of my lungs
as if i could forget our
everything-is-made-to-break-us philosophy
II.
i can’t wait to hear your post-life debauchery
your elvis-is-alive monologues
your no-more-coffee-days
but my totem poles are
filled with stardust and wire
and as you are sorry
i am thinned
III.
and your worry sings chimes
and my sturdy arms flap upwards
and the blue turns to black
and the wings beneath my wind
secretly
crawl crawl crawls
to your moonlight
(2007)
to your skinny-kitten murmurs
in my nameless approach i sucked the bone from the marrow
i swung ancient sweats on your open emptied trains
i slept in saltwater mist
i raced my hearts content on blistered feet
my chalk-less attempts to capture the humidity
left empty pints on emptied wallets
and my out of town sorrow lifted
and my nervous legs clung ambiguous to twilight
and i choked on your sparkled exhaust
and i slept on your invisible roof-tops
and watched
as silent sirens and women
drove by
(2007)
and i’m flying above a sailboat
and the sky is clear
and the wind is angry
but the bats
and all the albatross
swim and sing and
frolic in the air with me
and the ripples in the ocean become real
and my feet are dangling off the edge of the world
and i’m realizing that
all the love in the world
is this
and all the sorrow in the world
is this
and like the shiny thing
i drop into the water
she disappears
(2007)
spurn’d from my hearts welcome’d repose
and her manhattan eyes crept my
spiderweb’d sadness
from it’s rainy days
and stood motionless
and took notes on how and where to grieve
and read didion, wolfe and the daily’s
that i could find a spot worth the shade
that my aching feet
could find respite
in such emptied homes
where animals needed tending (not me)
where money is time and art is not love but process
where the cowgirls are city-girls and the busy is just false noise
where everyone tells you not to look up
where everyone is looking down or through you
where your only hope is in getting lost
where everyone else is bored
where the planes don’t explode anymore
where phones die
where people wait for you to leave to ask you to stay
where survival is passion
where the sun and the moon and the earth are against everything
where you can fall in love with your own broken heart
II.
and if it sings it sings
and when it rains it roars
that new york will wait
but i might not
(2007)
won’t make a vagabond out of these iron strings
no
i am construed on captivated crooning’s
flush with the floor
drunk on pitch and purr
i am focused on making old hands
out of these new chants
and the song sings itself:
sweet sweet
clean clean rug
safe as home
just needs a tug
(2007)
we discuss the death we lived
in order to get to the life we’re living
and though my healing wrists caught gleams of
the pavement that’s killing you
i waited an eon or two or three or four for us to purify our hug
our lungs – only with meaning this time
and now my goodbye anthem
is singing faster than cats bring dead birds
is lunging harder than feet make blisters
is waiting longer than my welcome’d repose
wore out it’s welcome
when i see you again
please
forgive my absence
(2007)
i’m telling you this because
it’s important to honor
our passing ghosts
it’s important to follow their
bleak demise
like obituaries
across the pavement
II.
whatever ship
it’s sailed
whatever cure you had in store
i’m sure
it’s not been perfected
either way
to the brig the lot of us
i am sure
we’ll know how to swim
(2007)
i was so sure your slippery grasp coveted my urge to wake alone
that i swam like a dolphin in
dreamt-of foreign waters
i drank enough saltwater to color my hair blue
i got lost in the pelican’s plight
and we sat in dirt
and prayed for waves
and when the cliff began to fall
i felt nothing but love
(2007)
and the mirrors
are over-lapping
at best
i repeat my mantras
until they become clear
like bells
like christmas
like ash
i make pretend castles with my hands
i float aimless on the delete button
i watch the planes in the skies
(2007)
of san francisc’an nights
bag pipes and incense
that followed the fog
out of sewers
smoke that oozed
from storm drains
watched
horses that clopped
from atop rooftops
your irish rose
rose above escalatored steps
into mission’s glittered avenues
you drank my metaphors
like some kind of rainbow structure
as we stood in the glass of the emerald haze
that was our drunk
our silent seance
painted ferlinghetti’s image
without using paint
or words
or sign language
and it was beautiful
and we showed it to no one
(2007)
is somewhere
beneath the hay stacks
i’ve been building
for decades
between you and me
i think my waterfalls
might topple those
silly dams
i think that
with enough courage
my lion suit
could come in handy
(2007)