raise me up

in haunting backs, smashed up
all of the compliments
I have to go visit my mom for some first time
I have a whole family
to share my pits with, my grub
to not smoke in front of
to smile at
to not get too shitfaced, to keep it together for
to let know my excitement
they might make me go rafting, or something
which will be pretty
it's one of the prettiest places on earth, Hailey, Idaho
I'll sleep under the stars, I'll read my kafka & my baudrillard & my sontag in lamplight
I'll think of your haunting back
long smooth brown, because I'm romantic like that
of your mouth, the prettiest part on you
with a mole on a lowerlip
Do you like it?
I do, I do
I compliment you freely, no one likes compliments
  because they don't seem free
I'll drive alone, no
just me, my brain riding in the scrub seat
I'll say goodbye
I'll say hello to a secret you
  when we last met in the tropical bed drinking rum, running our bodies out each other
  but that was years ago.
  and we're brothers again.
all of my brothers, then
  and I'll be the failed aunt daughter sister
whispering, bye byeing at Idaho
    you little sucker
bye byeing at the mountains & clear summer waters.
see you soon, future turn, let me let's go peacefully, wrap my brain up
wrap me good, my little passenger

it's humid

it used to fuel, it is letting itself go, look at it
all shab, all grub
it's avoiding the mirror lately
it hasn't any pets anymore
everyone's in a flat great fucking mood
puddles are lying
reflections of trees
like our CITY OF TREES tattoos we're getting
it rained very early this morning
I want to know how to barometer
how to measure the letting-yourself-go
in length of body hair?
in width of copper chain stain on dirt neck?
in amount of bodyodor emanating?
in a caliper of fatroll?
I just googled the word WHATEVER
but I haven't checked the results
it's 70 degrees, 53% humidity in boise
it's 97 degrees, and only 47% humidity in new orleans
I know how to do this in the wet
so let's get it ONNNNN

someone take care of it

someone put exhaust in the smoke
or maybe a body's trying to say something
we are a fantasy crowd.
we breathe out noses.
months away (not so very far distances away!)
  and I keep thinking how when I was in new york
  I really wanted one of those gold script ID necklaces
  that all the cool brooklyn babes would wear
and I'm not talking abt the williamsburg babes
highwasted jeans
long hair, big shades
with stick arms
I'm talking about the applebottom babes
  but I wanted one with my old boyfriend's name
  and the guy at the shop informed me that
No, this necklace should be mine
no boys allowed
it's a good thing I didn't do it
else now I'd have a necklace
of Adan
  and we're friends, I'll always love that guy
but I couldn't exactly wear proudly his namesake now, could I?
  how many chains could I wear
if I had all of the $$
  for all of the names
     of everyone I've loved?
just pounds of goldplated shines
  hanging from my grub neck
I'd have to have all of the world's $$, again
  and that would be a weighty take
     on forever

20: goldspeck sparrow, sour greens

My larkspur longs for you! My rockfrog leaps into the cool of a pond! The only flowers on their backs are goldspeck lichens, (sagebrush scented) while a hawk (ferruginous in style & temperament) seals the deal. A rusted Solomon's seal, left by the sticks of lungworts melted over a high flame. My own sour greens grow wilted after a hot summer's look, yours, in particular. My own sparrow (chipping) in the early, early morning, before even the grub lichens have slid out from their dormant domiciles for a bite of fresh sorbet. In this heat, in this desert, my skin is yours; my own flesh melts off in jackets of toadskin lichens, only for your smoothe fingertips.