poem from 2008

blue feels like my body ..

mattress, bills, woman-stomach, a floor. bobbing.

the light, a can of steps. (stone

shoes scare me.)

my fingers in your loneliness.

my lips want to be shaded by your thoughts &

dirty sounds. sweat, salt and a brandless brew. even

a warm, rattling.

like fields. unplugged, the

"I" breaks on. shiny, white top, to your thin

blanket, to your tip, just my

tears

-FAR AWAY-

a cigarette to sleep. a sort of, breath, we turn on

the wrong side.

other movements?

12.. maybe.

irony.

clearing all chambers

better to clock

industrial flock

heel sound

barrel

a shot.

pale parting throats

nah

mucus?

tapped eyes

next

jock olive

ha, good luck!

one girl's name was Music

the other went by, Sorrow.

we were sitting somewhere in the night

I wish I could find this song for you

it starts with a kick then turns into a trampoline. then.

mountains. huge holes. Hammered, I kissed

your thighs, and time spun out.

MORNING

anxiety. liquid head. small room.

potato-bug-smile/everything-is-too-bright.

a ringworm mouth.

after she left for where ever (maybe work.)

I have her books to check out:

Marguerite Duras - the lover -

"Hallo how are you? he'd say in the English syle, without a comma, laughing."

Burroughs - junky

(too flat)

Patti Smith - early work -

"it was brancusi who had the courage to crack and reconstruct the intelligent innocence of an egg. thru mold and concrete he shot the perfect shape into the rock. the hard thrust of a feather."

lots of Stephen King - "tak"

in the fridge, I find stuff to make a drink:

RC/vodka

4 ice cubes

a clear, plastic cup.

on the door of the fridge, magnetic words, I push a few together:

love is weightless