nothing new

it's only the 4th
day
of the new
year an' i'm already
running
behind
myself
on bills
housework
paperwork
exercise
correspondence
phone calls
hair-dying
poetry

Songs for Rolinda

gonna be a squid

kid
gonna be a cool

dude
gonna get a big

id
gonna eat sea

food

gonna get tentacle
implants

gonna learn to do a
squid dance

gonna live under
the water

and make breakfast for
my daughter (in the morning)

while im squirming

gonna wear sweaters
with
lots and lots of arms

TRANSGRESS

IS THIS COOL

They have bamboo canyons

They have javelin tendencies

CLASSIC REDACT CASSIO CLASSIC REUP REVISE WINTER BREAK 2004 YALL

I was not bewildered
I have read the rules extensively, while drunk
I am not the doggy bag
I am not the floating goldfish
You don't have to send someone to collect my newspaper or stop my mail

You smoke painful cigarettes
You turn the shower hotter still
You drink to fill the bilingual silences
and tear your hair out

I made my promises
I projected my losses
You project your loss onto me
Aren't you familiar with the crackle of desperation?

you've lost weight
your face is more edged and more beautiful
your stare is cutting

I am older than you were.
You are older than you were.
I no longer have hands that you could force
I'm not your problem
I'm just the girl you love

You shouldn't move on.
You already moved.
You were gasping for breath and grinning down
knocking down the columns before your plane was off the ground

TUFF ALSO

yup so
i wanna fall in love with a lion
WELL WAIT A MINUTE
IT'S TIME TO CANCEL OUT IMMORTALITY FROM THIS EQUATION
YOU CAN DECIDE YOU WANT SOMETHING
but that's about all you can do
I AM A LION INSIDE

let me be real for a second:

1. i went on 4 dates from okcupid and the connecting thread was,
2. when i asked each one of them what their spirit animal was,
3. they all said i'm a lion

YOU ARE A LION INSIDE
HELLO! YOU ON THE INTERNET
LAST YEAR WAS POEM A DAY 2010

OKAY NOW THE POEM IS ABOUT TO START
THE MOVIE IS ABOUT THE START
THE MOVIE IS ABOUT TO START
I LOVE YOU
THE MOVE HAS ALREADY STARTED
I HAVE ALREADY STARTED TO MOVE
I HAVE ALREADY MOVED
I AM ALREADY MOVING
i am already moved

Internal Rhythm

4.

The morning is sunny,
The evening punctuated
with a quiet pink sunset
She sits on a soft leather couch
surrounded by red golden embroidery
She is sipping green tea
between bites of spicy noodles.

She is imagining this is a memory-
impossibly plush, clean, luxurious

When she is looking back someday,
when the world has gone mostly
in flames
and she is huddling
in ashes, maybe
or under the black hulk of a tree

If it comes
it will be quite suddenly
no pundits
no advance warning
but a sudden rush of hot air
the windows shaking
her voice, inexplicably
rising in a scream.

yoyoyoalso baby as accessory

SHOULD I REWRITE IT?

PERFORM BIOLOGY! (being seperated from your life)

look dude
uknowthatilikeu
butyoudontlikemeback
whatthefuckiswiththat

also
webothknow
youstillgo
outtoeatburritos
withotherdumberdudes

up
coming
shows

Remember me as how I was

Before my eyes rolled up.
before a madness rolled out erratic, arachnid, before
my hands, arthritic, crinkled up into webs
and the spider of my brain escaped all over my body.

Unsuited

My God, was I inelegant.

I sat down, elephant.

I had to roar.

Thank god for volumes.

There is no tomb. It's solvable

by the light, and the deep years.

It's true, this new thing sways

your hand, and the way it stays.

But my God, the way it stays.

not sure I know what this means yet

A classical fool: a rabbit, a grasshopper.
Easily fabled as deaf, as tool.
Pride saps strength, the moral goes;
it's the view down the nose, at any length.

distance=privilege

On a beach begorged by seagulls
glows a fish with teats,
a seacow.

She is dead, her body

opens, pours a thick white mess
the froth laps.

She is there, I haven't killed her,
but I cannot fully witness. I'm ashamed
but still resistant. What's to say?
The truth? I love the dead. I do. It's said.
Save their intolerable red.

death and others

1

poplars,

winter.

a deep bare death reaches out

from the ground, a stretching tree.

when I go down in stone when

the cobbles click a cold red robin

will perch upon my stone

2

resist, tame:

kissers, fighters,

banshees, licenses,

skillets, the angry,

beauty in a ditch, country clubs,

and all that does not warrior

its way toward darkness.

3

to be whiteblooded

is to rely on every

thing, except the heart.

sufferin'

I don't mean to sound creepy, kid,

but it's not long I can last here, being in a bed,

knowing you're out there.

A haze comes over me like I've looked too long at a snake. Hypocrites

hate sickness, or claim to. Thinking of you lowers a throb into the folds

around my slit of a cunt, makes me push three fingers through thick hair into a fruit-like mush of myself, where something perfect rises

and hulks. To solve this: humping down on the side of your leg,

or pressing my cool whole curvy body against your side.

I want what you promise,

I want your infinitesimal strokes,

I want your adjustments,

I want to fuck sensitive, fuck wise,

for you, fully clothed, to turn your head toward my ear and slur,

describe the way you store yourself.

I would grip down for that, I would be good for that. I would not fight then,

just continually unwind and be fully body.

Only seeing to the mind I've glimpsed would I be fully body.

the rational ass

I tell you, violet, I love to be led

by the muzzle. Tugged along nosewise,

by your two fingers, it's heaven and a half.

I love me being dragged into meadows hee-hawing to be shot,

otherwise I'd have split down the middle about it,

I'd have bitten my way out of it.

NICE DAY

so tidy, tame,
the lawn's terrific.
Bugs go down a blade.
In ordered rows,
the push of sprouted things
beside the shade.

ON SIN

my lesson is to keep a nit,
to let it feed--
then bury it.

another clerihew for the road

Adam and Eve
had no one to deceive.
They found a bunch of apples worth a tryin',
'til one got Eden by a lion.

Consensual

Chris, look.
We both want a picnic,
but first we have to get out of this field.

Why fight? We both know
you bit the wrong animal.
The venom's been circulated:
you are beloved.

A hollow's been thumbed.
When I speak your name
it brings a bird,
a thrum.

In truth, you are not present
except as my present gift to myself.
I think you, too, should take me
and look for yourself.

New York/Central Park

A terse man leans
from his child’s frown.

A little dog leaves
and a bench is clear.

Clouds in blobs.

The pain impresses me.
In fact a line rises from me.

In time my body will lessen.
The remains of the day will be the total
of what I’ve chosen to count.