| The first lap is to learn.
|---------The second lap is to pace memory.
| The third lap is to press.
|---------The second lap is to pace memory.
| The third lap is to press.
original works of parts
Ecosystem 400 Atmospheres
Turn on light
to see what has never
seen color.
Iris close.
Silt in focus and beacon.
Know skeletal
under pressure
far from
what keeps warm.
Aliens!
20'000 leagues.
where no one can hear you
cry.
Laugh.
Stepping across and through the silt.
Snap the map. Unfurled.
Two clicks to the bar.
I heard there was pool there.
Spit spot, step in time.
Sally forth
or something like that.
All in all,
make like a tree
and leave
or something like that.
Silt
and
snow.
Skeletal and blight,
spined and black dish eyed,
unless ultraviolet shines or
a plain spotlight where no lantern has business.
Tallyho!
Above
a shadow shifts.
Heavy and wide as an
asteroid.
Light unable
to close the distance.
to see what has never
seen color.
Iris close.
Silt in focus and beacon.
Know skeletal
under pressure
far from
what keeps warm.
Aliens!
20'000 leagues.
where no one can hear you
cry.
Laugh.
Stepping across and through the silt.
Snap the map. Unfurled.
Two clicks to the bar.
I heard there was pool there.
Spit spot, step in time.
Sally forth
or something like that.
All in all,
make like a tree
and leave
or something like that.
Silt
and
snow.
Skeletal and blight,
spined and black dish eyed,
unless ultraviolet shines or
a plain spotlight where no lantern has business.
Tallyho!
Above
a shadow shifts.
Heavy and wide as an
asteroid.
Light unable
to close the distance.
Paint The Corner of The Plate
If
I ever do take one looking,
flip my bat,
gesture at the home team's manager
with a throat slit or something similar,
it's not because I am angry.
It is because baseball bores me and
thirty one innings
is quite sufficient.
Every suicide is a retirement,
but not every retirement
is a suicide.
I ever do take one looking,
flip my bat,
gesture at the home team's manager
with a throat slit or something similar,
it's not because I am angry.
It is because baseball bores me and
thirty one innings
is quite sufficient.
Every suicide is a retirement,
but not every retirement
is a suicide.
Sundial
Glance up
at the points above. Tiny windows miles overhead.
On board the H.S.N. Yiinkf. Automatic doors
at the gas station on Earth. The news said
it was coming back.
What the hell is taking so long
to leave. Three weekends ago. Four?
The cops still come around.
Ritual 12:15 lunch break. Oh fifteen?
Turn up the headset. "Light pollution,"
pass the bills.
Take the smokes. "Used to be able to see the moon-"
Exit. What is that ship still doing up there?
Pull 1, flip it lucky, replace.
What does the sunrise look like from there?
at the points above. Tiny windows miles overhead.
On board the H.S.N. Yiinkf. Automatic doors
at the gas station on Earth. The news said
it was coming back.
What the hell is taking so long
to leave. Three weekends ago. Four?
The cops still come around.
Ritual 12:15 lunch break. Oh fifteen?
Turn up the headset. "Light pollution,"
pass the bills.
Take the smokes. "Used to be able to see the moon-"
Exit. What is that ship still doing up there?
Pull 1, flip it lucky, replace.
What does the sunrise look like from there?
Dance For June Sunset
The garden lamps rise for Summer the same way the sun
disco balls.
The moon
only glitters
when the stars are out too.
City life is far too brief.
Set a fire
in the backwoods
and see
what comes near
to play.
Dance furiously for the long and dog days.
Fall and Spring are nothing to me.
Celebrate extremes as the rainbow shows
what the I can't see
In person.
Know the transitions and familiarize.
How wonderful the dark.
How wonderful the light.
How beautiful to walk
with the wind against your back. All ways
the wind with
intent on your might?
The garden lamps rise for Summer
in the depths of Spring.
The ground soft enough to mud your shoes.
The sprigs crisp enough to snap
without breaking.
In person.
Scream and yowl,
fink and howl to the absent moon.
Present. A matter of time and
enough glass to catch a bulb.
Check shoe laces for blood.
disco balls.
The moon
only glitters
when the stars are out too.
City life is far too brief.
Set a fire
in the backwoods
and see
what comes near
to play.
Dance furiously for the long and dog days.
Fall and Spring are nothing to me.
Celebrate extremes as the rainbow shows
what the I can't see
In person.
Know the transitions and familiarize.
How wonderful the dark.
How wonderful the light.
How beautiful to walk
with the wind against your back. All ways
the wind with
intent on your might?
The garden lamps rise for Summer
in the depths of Spring.
The ground soft enough to mud your shoes.
The sprigs crisp enough to snap
without breaking.
In person.
Scream and yowl,
fink and howl to the absent moon.
Present. A matter of time and
enough glass to catch a bulb.
Check shoe laces for blood.
The Art of Fucking
Do you see
lines, points, and graph theory,
or
do you wrinkle the corner of a pillow
on your couch and curse the propensity
to insist the lights be turned off.
Confined to a time of day.
Manufacture anything
while you're at it.
Laugh over breakfast:
a lime and crackers and a plastic stripped square
of cheese. Cigarette out
in a sneaker sole. Blame it on the night.
Never trust an over eager high five.
Feel free
to shift little things in their apartment
30 inches to the left or right
while they are asleep.
lines, points, and graph theory,
or
do you wrinkle the corner of a pillow
on your couch and curse the propensity
to insist the lights be turned off.
Confined to a time of day.
Manufacture anything
while you're at it.
Laugh over breakfast:
a lime and crackers and a plastic stripped square
of cheese. Cigarette out
in a sneaker sole. Blame it on the night.
Never trust an over eager high five.
Feel free
to shift little things in their apartment
30 inches to the left or right
while they are asleep.
January Kiss
Home from Emma's birthday party
we stayed long enough to make the train schedule
in time. Stopped off at the drug store,
do they still call them that,
to make up costumes and you went as a box:
packing tape on every seam.
I went as bargain bin socks.
"Last minute idea," we agreed,
was too easy.
The debate on table games ran long,
my mind drifts over the ease of frat house logic
and quarters broached and shot down
before the "wart" left my mouth
to make "quarters".
A window glance
to remind we are 29 floors up
and it is a one way ride
to the sidewalk.
A beat to glance at the telescope's
empty space. "Why don't they have one?"
Undressed and too dressed to fuck.
Oh, they'll break up soon. She's on a tour.
Not a "last hurrah!" sort of thing,
but he did say some weird shit
while we played Connect Four before she
disappeared for half of an hour.
Breathing in your fresh toothpaste:
"let's touch eyeballs."
The old joke turns and hiccoughs.
Let's touch eyeballs.
Noses mash while lips rest and
breaths from inside your wings
come to rest in my chest.
Eyelash tickle and flinch and wince.
"I'm tired too." Agree that folks should learn
to dance more often.
Your phone is on the kitchen counter,
not the L line's seat.
Pajamas. Mine is in the freezer.
How else will I remember
to put ice cubes in my water come morning.
Breathing in, noses eyelashes apart.
I love you. I envy you your friends.
Let's see them again. Breath in. Breath out.
Whisper. Listen to your lungs
like a neighbor sex offender and warm
my insides by your bellows, feeding a fire.
"Let's go out tonight."
Your quiet heart. Your memories.
Your Emma. Your party.
Our confetti, our dance. Our argument
parting ways to work and
I thought you had fun too.
I'm sorry.
Lighter spark.
Gray tendril licks the sky blanketed in stars.
I'm glad you can sleep.
Old friends and music and table games.
I miss you already, tamping out a cigarette
on a stairwell bolted to the side of building.
Come morning
you will not miss me.
we stayed long enough to make the train schedule
in time. Stopped off at the drug store,
do they still call them that,
to make up costumes and you went as a box:
packing tape on every seam.
I went as bargain bin socks.
"Last minute idea," we agreed,
was too easy.
The debate on table games ran long,
my mind drifts over the ease of frat house logic
and quarters broached and shot down
before the "wart" left my mouth
to make "quarters".
A window glance
to remind we are 29 floors up
and it is a one way ride
to the sidewalk.
A beat to glance at the telescope's
empty space. "Why don't they have one?"
Undressed and too dressed to fuck.
Oh, they'll break up soon. She's on a tour.
Not a "last hurrah!" sort of thing,
but he did say some weird shit
while we played Connect Four before she
disappeared for half of an hour.
Breathing in your fresh toothpaste:
"let's touch eyeballs."
The old joke turns and hiccoughs.
Let's touch eyeballs.
Noses mash while lips rest and
breaths from inside your wings
come to rest in my chest.
Eyelash tickle and flinch and wince.
"I'm tired too." Agree that folks should learn
to dance more often.
Your phone is on the kitchen counter,
not the L line's seat.
Pajamas. Mine is in the freezer.
How else will I remember
to put ice cubes in my water come morning.
Breathing in, noses eyelashes apart.
I love you. I envy you your friends.
Let's see them again. Breath in. Breath out.
Whisper. Listen to your lungs
like a neighbor sex offender and warm
my insides by your bellows, feeding a fire.
"Let's go out tonight."
Your quiet heart. Your memories.
Your Emma. Your party.
Our confetti, our dance. Our argument
parting ways to work and
I thought you had fun too.
I'm sorry.
Lighter spark.
Gray tendril licks the sky blanketed in stars.
I'm glad you can sleep.
Old friends and music and table games.
I miss you already, tamping out a cigarette
on a stairwell bolted to the side of building.
Come morning
you will not miss me.
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