things we think of alone

in the stars & bars, the neon bikini
wet from river,
it sucked me in
this is how drunks drown
the water black linesnaking across
I wouldn't have fallen in there in daytime, too dangerous
wet home, always the sprinklers on the greenbelt between 3 & 4 am
things we think about alone
the dry eyes, the good goodbyes
the dreams I have about masturbating
always a mother or stepmother figure to embarrass myself in front of
the geminates: double rs, double ss
the ending of sentences with prepositions
I'll let you sleep all day, I'll tiptoe about you
find you coffee
watch your skin on the butter sheets, your shorts of a dusty salmon pink shirt
long pretties
I get jealous when I overhear things sometimes
but alone on a bike in the dark, feeling cold, wet, driving fast to beat it
coming alone in the heat, it's nice like winterblanket
it makes a sigh smile across me.
thinking of your leaving, of my staying put
I'm putting out even in sleep.
get in me
you did, once, many
I'm alright with that now
so I think it
so I build it true.
now

garbagepail

so many Gs in the bank
I'm listening to the neighbors party
someone just walked out of the house saying,
Party tiiime, gurl
and I'm like, Hella! I'm alone in pretend house, the dog isn't barking
another guy just called out, Text me in 2 hours to find out what I want from Jimmy John's
and I'm all, Helllllla!
one of the neighbors is a super-puker
he superpukes really loudly in the mornings
right outside the window where I'm waking up, and
rubbing my eyes, going, Hella
Hella puke it OUT, bro
get it
another guy who lives in that house is the breast marauder
the tiny razor pube man
it's a gross story
but he doesn't remember me, so
I'll underbang glance grimmace at him, like, ohh Hella
I never have to remind him
that that's not the romantic way to fingerblast a babe
that he has a million too many identical sweaters
that ripping off a hot babe's nipples isn't the way to get
your sharp little penis inside of it

sorry, this was a bad one
but I'm alone, and feeling proud
of life, of brain, of heart & future
  for at least the next twenty minutes, or so

heartline

a man came into the coffeeshop wearing an old new orleans tigers hat
which I found a little serendipitous
he made me sell him $1 worth of bulk tea
I used the scale and a flimsy cellophane bag
and he said, Your heart line is so bright you could roast weenies on it
I asked him, What the fuck is a heart line
not in those words, exactly
and he said, Your joie de vivre
he told me, It comes out your eyes,
and your smile, especially
and oh, your rosy cheeks, too
and I was thinking, either I do have a carefree enjoyment of life,
or,
this guy is fucking dumb

I'm sorry. I guess I must really just be good at my job
or maybe
or maybe I'm just a shining lovebeacon
  pretending I'm not
I should have insisted that he give me his cap, for my new disguise


THIS GIRL IS ON FIIIIIIIIIRE

I threw a vase of flowers in the hills last night

I'm still a dream
I hear the morning and I'm still a dream in it I am the morning and I'm still a dream and it
I can't sleep anymore
sleep
long sleep sounds long
I was dreaming of this to other places
in the desert now
you've probably never even seen each other
the desert
I know you see me
we missed Mount Rushmore
I don't know that we missed anything
I have a good time up there in the hills
I make a pretty calm out of it
I wrapped many things up
the ground me
the brush me
the Coors under the stars
doesn't the sky
make you hotter than I do?
I love my eyes in the morning water
I am soft down bird today
and my chest is a pain
rocks & ridges
  recognize my voice
we can be the best winner I think
it's nice to think of you first thing in the morning
it's oh so daunting
and a little bit
death

a million bucks

thank you for the invitation

  I woke up with flowers in my eyes

  something happened when I was asleep.

  what happens when one is asleep?

all of my millions left me

I was knocked at the knees and 

all of the change

  is in gutters around.

    where are my shoes?

     where are my cadillac dreams?

        where's my word of today?

perfect

  mercurial

I was trying to flirt yesterday

  with this miniature bikejock

     he asked if the tunamelt was poisonous

I said, Hey guys, mercury is in retrograde right now

  so it's left the giant tunas of the world

  sucked back up into the atmosphere, right?

I mean, that's what that means

  I want to empty out thermometers in you

  I want your insides to burn sizzle out

    or is that mean?

I had a million bucks yesterday

  and I blew it, on a couple of things I wrote down

  on a drawing I made.

I felt the soft edge of some bend

I felt me pulling round it.

but dream memory

  and reality sad come by

    even in my silk vermilion blouse

       and the woolen plaid & everyday's tiedye

         I am still a solid wish 

                        a wonder

                         a so very solidly disappointed

I'll break my own record

  it's a tedious thing
  
   and what's left

                   but to wonder at         disappointment

there's nothing to be done with it

there's no effective

diss
diss
diss

impulse $$$

it was a sad summer

their names were vermilion beard, sad mouth

it was a sad fall

their names were aubergine hair, squishface, eyelashes

it was a sad winter 

their names were eyes

it was a sad spring

their names were hipbones, limbs, flesh

a bag of lemons is a bad sign is a bad notion idea indication

"if someone takes your idea it isn't really yours"-  go to work

"if I am the only one alive I am all of the life"-  go write in your diary

do you remember when we ate mushrooms

and that kanye song, all of the lights 

showed up

and I fell into your sob shoulder

and you asked me to tell you why 

and I said, it just reminds me that everything is as bad as it seems

did you know that kim kardashian has ballooned to 220 lbs since getting pregnant?

that she has ballooned to such proportions that kanye will no longer speak to her?

I read this off a magazine at kmart two weeks ago

when Nickey & I were buying toilet paper

and she desperately wanted a pop tart

so we were looking among the magazine racks for impulse buys

we thought pop tarts would make a pretty good one of those

chub

last year bruce & I went to home depot

and we bought a little cactus

the kind with the beautiful red bulb for a hat

and the gentle spikes down its shaft

He named it Molly

When I left the house for good

he took care of all the succulents for me,

feeding them calcium supplements

turning them toward the sun

making sure their puffy leaves were full with juice.

But I came one day

to find Molly

half dried, petrified

rock-like

her swollen red top

shriveled & black.

Oh, I don't know what happened to Molly,

he said, eyes downcast

And then I took them away.

It was cruel but I took all those sucs away from him & brought them to my new house.

Then I took some back to him

because he could have just killed her,

smashed the pot

decapitated it

burned it alive

he didn't

he just stopped thinking about it

or he just disregarded it

or he liked watching it shrivel, waste away

but it didn't die so maybe there're tender gestures still

Now she's grown three tiny cactus arms, 

and she's reaching to sunlight

and she's chubbing up again with water light health summer

but she's still fucking ugly

shone me something

squinty little eyes on the shine, in that shine. 

my face is turning, growing into something

it's a little destruction planet. 

I blow out my teeth with my words

the words trip out my throat & 

the words tongue my tongue.

the sun tongues me

and my teeth explode 

and I gum the words for the rest of time

and there are palatal licks of sound

and alveolar outbursts

and labial laments.

but those dentals be damned, a toothless attempt

at getting across any desperate points

metalepsis

So all that's left is the voiceless acceptance

the gutterally giving in

the fricitive finality.

Take my words but

spare my sight. I want to die with memories in me

of the very things words don't do

glitter

glow

gush

weep

words might, but sight happens better,

how would they ever catch up

things we do to damage ourselves

   put your head between the two speakers & lay upside down so your organs can slide back, loud as you can
   hold the knife blade in, but gently
   never quit
   never quit
   never quit
   take drugs that half the time urge you to kill yourself
   tell your friends you want to kill yourself
   let music & only music hold you
   lament the past efficiently
   get pleasure from tears
   destroy yourself for crying
   give up
   forget someone you thought you'd love forever (a celebration in this like your very last birthday maybe)
   starve
   stay up
   fall in love with your own heartbeat
   let your own heartbeat drown the world out
   isolate yourself in you, as if you're the best hiding place
   dislocate
   disavow
   distrust
   promise
   expect
   forget why you came, pretending you never intended to
   keep your heart a secret
   keep your brain in your throat
   keep your mirror as a pet
   wish
   hope
   look behind you with watery eyes
   call the best poem you've ever written a tear-stained page in a diary
   forget your own beauty
   call yourself a genius
   call yourself a retard
   kiss anyone who holds your hand
   make truth out of whatevers
   say I don't know
   tell someone that you do, and they won't
   watch yourself go
   write bad poems
   thinking they're like a bath
   thinking they're just words
   try
   stone face smiling
   ignore
   revenge

to do

this poem's called, I bought a bag of lemons

this poem's called, I just bought four bananas

this poem's called, I bought the unripest ones

this poem's called, fuck it, I don't care

this poem's called, yeah right, I use all of the rooms in the house as a hankie

this poem's called, I'm being forcefed

this poem's called, someone hook me up to an IV

this poem's called, I just need those nutrients

this poem's called, when donuts come up, I think you're talking about me

this poem's called, I will get you or I will get you back

this poem's called, I finally swallowed my brain

this poem's called, my molars are for molling

this poem's called, ∞: break my heart

this poem's called, you can have it all

this poem's called, tears are in your eyes

this poem's called, we listened to yo la tango, remember them?

this poem's called, wait & brood

this poem's called, the worst number is 23 because of the following reasons

this poem's called, I can have it all

this poem's called, oops, I did it again
this poem's called, I'm in the break room
this poem's called, coke 0

this poem's called, I'm a variable

this poem's called, I'm running, I'm running faster than ever

based on the hit song AMAZING GRACE

kids keep naming their kids Gracie, or Gracey, or Gracee, and I wonder, so are these kids naming their kids Grace & making it easier on them 

to deal with such a supreme sort of name

by childishing it & making it easier on the come-out?

Because the ee-affixes 

are sweeter sounding on the tongue.

Because I'm thinking, in my mind (it's where I think)

as this kid's giving birth in the hospital

or in her bathtub

is she moaning out about how graceful it all is

how this parasite's been inside living off of her for most of the gregorian year

a creature pushing out uncontrollably

about ready to kill her, & finally

that it's filled with blood & skin & miniorgans

and all so grace-filled?

with its little closed-eye expression

& toothless scream-out,

that she, that it be the grace of god?

Gross.

There was a girl in jr high with me named Grace

(& we called her Gross, pretty mean)

and she had posters of nsync on every inch of her room

so you had no idea where the walls were.

I never was inside her room

or in her house

but we were neighbors so when she had her lights on at night

I couldn't believe it.

I mean, nsync is good

but really?

Maybe Gracie in her little stupid babybrain

knows totally that she's just got to get out of there

she's gestated

she's turning

she's got limbs, & little healthful graceful organs

& a little angelic face, so they say when she comes out & they rub her down in soft towels

& stick the baster in her nose

& blow out her kid mom's fluids

so she can stop breathing what she has been

& come out & do it like a human being.

Maybe Gracie in her little, insignificant mind

with her eyes already open,

& seeing better than I can 

or you can

looking about, speechless, graceless,

is thinking 

hey

I got out of there

& it was a prison

& I am a free man

& I will tattoo the world with my fullness

& I am eager to devour it

with the windows open

with the blinds shattered,

that Curtain City is closed until death

which is way, way too graceful & far away

i swear a mourning dove lives beneath the awning

today I'm like the actor in monochrome when the movie is like heavy

like saturated reds & greens, that kind of movie

way newer than technicolor, but still the thick dense 8mm sort

that thickworld

& I'm the one with the umbrella, but it isn't raining

so the other actors walk around me down the streets,

avoiding me because

umbrellas always have those sharp stabbers when the rubber things fall off

which I think always they do,

and it's even worse, doing this, because

I've always hated umbrellas.

I've always thought

so I will be wet

so my hair will be fuzzy

so my eyes will tear up

so my coat darkens.

but the rain on a face,

nice, nice

nice

nice

& the other actors mill about avoiding

but they're uncertain, mostly, why don't I see the sun &

the saturated red & green?

but I mean, they're just actors so probably they aren't thinking that at all.

it's really hard to tell, I mean

impossible to tell

what the others

could possibly be thinking

it's okay because I won't stop thinking of what others could possibly be thinking

and what they would think if I told them what I was thinking

or even would they think anything at all.

I had this box of coffee which mostly just spilled onto the floor of my car.

I had a beer in a jar.

I went to the thrift store, and there was an ad on the radio about how boise interior design & co or something supports the christian radio station

what was it

not the teachings

not the services

oh, oh

the duty

yeah, the duty. doing a duty deed

& so in the spirit of it all I bought a child's forest camo tee

like the kind with the leaves

& the branches

& I paid a man drinking a sprite

and he sort of stood there for a second, I think deciding what to do with this sprite in his hand

so he settled on setting it down. He had a superlow voice

& this steady uncertain movement

of a recent believer, or a recent exsmoker, or a recently having been given-birth-to, again

and he said: with fondness, & a struggling sentimental: I'll bet this is for your little boy, isn't it

and I almost lied

no

I said I don't have any children

& he looked me over

and he said, oh, I see, you're small

did he say small bodied?

I left because the beer in the jar was getting warm

& I had looked in the mirror

& my clothes were so drab

so like end of summer, hating on early fall because it will become winter so can't look at the

pretty present

but instead at the sad torturous months ahead, sad futures

it's that sort of outfit

but I'm not that sort of girl

I don't hang in the treacherous promise future

I hang with the heart in my chest kind of present

my brain

my bod

my chipped teeth

they are good for tearing flesh

they are good

for caring

caring flesh

& this morning

& right now

I hear the low moan of a mourning dove, and it sounds so close I think it just must be tucked under that stupid stripe-ed awning

which is pretty nice

it's pretty nice

ohwhell

I kissed five people in the last 19 days
but only one of them came
and one of them is out of the state
and one of them is out of the country
and one of them is desperate every night
and one of them is in "an open relationship"
and one of them I do like I think
but it isn't inevitable
with one I got undressed
with one it was slowmotion
one kissed across a bar
one was sober
one was gay
one was fat
one had beautiful dark eyes
one was tall & ugly
one had the palest thinnest hair
one had the softest beard
one can't grow a beard
one could never look at me
one could barely touch me
two of them made my bed the day after
but none had breakfast with me,
because I had to go to work in the morning

things we talked about

eyes, colors, nausea, autumn, showers, blood, being Irish, come, stubble, being Turkish, being Canadian, lying, misuse, anxiety, border collies, language, love, fear, drinks, smoking, hands, feet, newness, comfort, guilt

just a couple of times

o god, o no

things we talk about 

sex, quesadillas, nostalgia, shirts, buttons, sweat, hair, sandwiches, swimming, drinking, dogs, smoking, love, breakingup, drugz, shoulders, legs, popmusic, lust, depression, beards, loneliness, julia roberts, sleeping, comfort, salad, tuna melts, football, stars, family, shoes, feet, eyes, bazooka joes

when i am 28

for me

I was drunk last night-

 this one’s for me. do you ever think about it?

do you ever think about it?

do you ever think about it?

Sometimes I think I know everything,

sometimes it’s later at night, during the time a moon normally shows,

especially when on nights before so strong a moon shone,

and sometimes, too, it’s distracting when everyone else can say it earlier than I, and

who cares? the smell is there, and I have the olfactory moments in me thick & true,

and by the by telling you that I am here in the woods, with a laptop

which somehow seems perfect

because I am no earth mother

I am a Typist

and the delete key, the letters lit up, are the tools that keep em going

when I could just sleepingbag out right now on a T on a lake, waves lapping

lapping lapping sloshing, all night long

Instead, I am here, soberest, knowing. You know, I know.

But sober enough to know that you don’t really know.

I see better with my eyes closed,

with my head sort of

with my heart an open hand. if that would near it, what I try to say

OH

and fail to say.

Sorry if you don’t, because I always will. & so glad you don’t, so I’ll never have to.

My dog has these

these

these

these words are so unimportant to her!

o nevermind, the world won’t end before I remember what I was going to say.

this morning I am

I'm the type who puts the caramel in the coffee in secret, and in doses so small the doses are invisible. It's the kitsch outfits all lined up from bottom to top: silver shoes for dancing, soft-shoe style, though I haven't seen it. I get distracted when I think of shoes and end up looking at them for days, and now I have three documents to write about it all. Moss-green tights accidentally bought, footless, and some cheap fake-denim number withe elastic waistband perfect for sitting here & not walking, not moving because I've pain in my uterus, or in my ovaries, where little cysts grow their little houses. I want to move in. And upwards, pictographs, and an indian-head cardigan. Nailpolish remnants like lichen on tips of fingers. Open something else up; wonder who will know about any of it.

Do you see how that went? how in the morning, early like this, drinking the coffee & sitting half-outside, I'm wandering, two eyes different-pointing, directionless. The familiar music, the familiar mood of the familiar mind, doing its memorable thoughtless moves through.

and there you are

poem(s) for warmth

from crepuscular orations

Sunny and warm.
stopped in the red, warm trunk of a fallen douglas fir,
warmth of sun on faces,
I can feel with the warmth
the beautiful breeze & warmth of sun
and the sweet-smelling warm air.
It is warm but the breeze blows.
The warmth of his hand on my neck,
sensitively, lovingly, warmly, openly?
It's very warm, of course, even hot...
Laying with you is warm.
when he arrives he'll greet me semi-warmly
I can still close my eyes and find you warming down me.
an opportunity to embrace him when he's warm and effulgent.
I need reaction, warmth, a listening ear,
And the warm sun,
She is so warm and open when it is in her best interest;
my new canada goose coathood warm around my cashmere scarfed face...

from momentos preciosas

I am warm & my hands are dry, such as wintry hands go in warm rooms.
I retrieved my warm laundry
and I could tell I'd be warm.
His neck was warm and pungent of him.
And the tea is still warm,
my feet are pressed up against the warmth of a space heater.
it's warming a bit tomorrow
all smooth and warm and everpresently pressing.
warm, but distant.
we could agree on the state of warmth.

poem(s) for the mind

from crepuscular orations

My body is too old for my mind.
It brings to mind Samuel Beckett and Oscar Wilde.
My mind turning to compost.
My eyes are dry, my mind is tired, my body needs more movement...
my mind is not the adulterer.
Gaining weight in every part but the mind & the heart,
with all my mind & able body
If I could kill the internet of my mind, we'd be on to something.
This is the most boring thing one could write, mind you.
Avoiding my mind & body, too.
he is so powerful in my mind.
I couldn't mind if they don't
keep in mind,
my heart is more awake today, my mind is more.
I kissed him after he read my mind
on behalf of anyone who is involved in the pathetic game of a weak mind,
he rarely walks across my mind anymore.
In my sick mind.
Willing us in his little boy's mind
and never was sex on my mind.
Can I use it to fill my mind with passion?
The songs into which your mind sank.
My mind was filled with beautiful things last night, I was a true romantic genius.
wouldn't you mind
plays are on my mind.
Blew my mind over.
It would take my mind off sex, but my mind wasn't too terribly on sex;
to get my mind off everything.
I didn't mind,
the last cock on my mind for an eternity.
It is better to get out of here so that my mind is completely empty.
I won't mind once I'm there...
And I won't mind one day meeting the next!
My mind is fresh & pungent & accepting.
Mind is quick & thorough.
I do not only exist within my mind.
I don't even mind at all.
He doesn't mind.
Why can't he just give me a little peace of mind?
and he's on my mind...
all I can do for the sake of my right mind is to behave exactly the way I can & do & tend to want to.
it'll blow your mind.
Even if I love his mind and want more of it,
even if the love of his mind is juice.
I love his mind, yes, it's so curious and I want it,
my own laughter at my own hilarious mind.
Excepting his mind I want to hear and experience.
I don't mind never touching him or kissing him again.
But my mind was and is the deadest.
that will blow my mind.
my mind is over.

from momentos preciosas

If he'd mind, could I?
They wouldn't mind.
I felt my mind's eye wander back and behind me, through the open window
as my expectant mind was, just then, in the walkway south of the window.
My problem is not just dilation of the eyes but the mind, and my mind's hand in my life.
My mind dilates, contracts.
In my last mind I said,
narrow minds abound.
mind-blowing
and to softly let my mind spin webs of ideas and escape-feelings.
Just as the wind moves, so does the mind.
If my mind wasn't blank I could reap so dear and clear and bestow my benefits to everyone.

poem(s) for hearts

from crepuscular orations

The heart goes in and out the veins, the heart thaws me numb.
Why does my heart explode my body?
my heart acts ravenous in my body.
the weight of my heart in my chest.
the constant heart spangles.
My heart dancing.
Gaining weight in every part but the mind & heart,
I could put lots of heart and soul into a dinner.
My heart is more awake today, my mind is more.
or breaking my heart.
how he broke Molly's heart,
most of my heart,
to not let my heart open up on the way.
Into my open heart
who broke my heart,
The craving for newness and adventure hasn't left with my heart.
Murmuring in quiet tones on the porch and my heart swung and I greedily thought,
This is the heart of my fear.
My heart was beating and to have
enough room in this heart for all this love,
we had a heart to heart
soaking into my eyes and my ears and my heart, in a heady, low volume rush,
abrasions bursting from in the heart and up to bubble at the surface.
my heart is a stupid little asshole
because he still holds the key to my heart?
my heart does
the heart is heavy
and my broken heart will heal with immediacy, because
total eclipse of the heart.

from momentos preciosas

that's why the heartpangs.
and autumn begins wholeheartedly.
I was thrown out from my hilarious and lighthearted dream;
I can feel the heart now.