oh well

what would a miss be, a true one
aligning alternately, who can you hear?
I've the salmon wall
I've the meat separating me
I'm the I'm sorry
I'm the original I'm Sorry
I just want my blankets back
I don't want you to have anything of mine
I want to bury you
I want to be the most unforgivable, the meanest
I want to tell you how I never believed it
and that could have stayed innocent, but now I'm free and now
it digs
because sometimes I think I'm better than the world
and I'm standing on air
it's nicest to be alone in winter
it really does something to us
I think you're wrong and I hate a lot about that
so abandon baby
break the space in two
winner
make me too easy

dear diary

where am I?
it's night the bugs are silent
but this: go about my legs
scheduling, sucking at my blood
well, turn around slowly, fat body
move about, checking
for degree of lost
for debris I've lost
I slap
bet you squash it, you
everyone else talks about how
the winter is coming for them
but no winter comes for me
I'm bare legged, short skirt-did
I'm sheeny, I'm shy
I'm processing ponds
little pools of poem in my head
my arm stay open
my legs spread
I'm a constant in this pool
I'm a constant sweat
it gets dark early
that's the only way to tell
there's a change
can see more stars than you think I can see more stars than you think.
you'd be surprised at the recognizable constellations I see
the same as they're at home, or whatever
its all open late
arms all open late groping
groping at the full night the full  night
my warm wet me
where am I?
I'm a big open wet glad sack
and I got all
that I smile
and I schedule
and schedule
and scuttle
and sad, at it all
but really not
at all

married

the only thing that really makes my hearts heavy now, is the river
it is the cleanest emerald & cobalt & turquoise river
& it runs right through my town
it's there every single day
it's hot outside, and sunny every single day
so I am in it
& in it's in me every day

I was just sitting there, drinking a pacifico I borrowed from my dad's fridge
I got under, swimmingdress on, coconut oiling hair
just dog & me, and that's when I realized I couldn't be sad about a thing
save for the extinction
of me in the river, of our beaches
  JO Beach
&
  Hella Beach
and that's all
I want boise to drift into the ocean all of the time
I want the city to shrink & dissolve
I want the highdesert to crush it
I want the sage to take over again.

I don't love you anymore, place, my nostalgia has evaporated.
because I've been in you too long.
and now I will leave you and I might
come winter
have missed you enough
for you to squish my puffy heart.
I'm going to the asshole of the great muddy
there won't be my clean clear water
& it will be hot, & I will be wet
with my coconut oiled hair
and my tender aging skin
freckles > cinnamon tan
& I'm not going to escape you,
but to
  reacquaint myself to the big true love.
I don't have to call you to tell you how I feel.
I don't have to tear myself apart in bed
in blood gorges
to prove it.
because we're inevitable
this is called forever since before I started
using the word as context for everything.
till death do us,
 we unavoidable
  be doing it together.

urchn

turn it around, make me a 

winter king

look who's queen, now

sidewaysing each other

sideswaying, flutter your eyelashes now

hot puffer, flyabover

be a don't 

be a don't bother

be a don't, bother to

be a don't, bother to be

be a don't, bother to be there

I'm a sad

I'm a sad kid

I'm a sad kid don't

I'm a sad, kid don't try

urchin

 urgin

puuff 

 puufff 

  paassssssst

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

things we know about me

I am over 28 years old

I listen to a lot, way too much lana del rey

I never ever take off this synthetic olive cardigan that andy gave to me after we broke up for the third but not last time, thanks to sentiment & the smell it's developed & the fact that it looks incredible with all of my clothes

I got jeans, I wore them for three days

I got my period as soon as I put on the jeans, so I didn't feel like I could really return them

I learned to crochet & I like to make these "statement necklaces"

I love the snow, I think it's immaculate

I haven't left my house save once where I tried to be out there for over two weeks

I have had this french braid in my hair for over a day

I wish I had winter boots

I want the strength to go to the clubs, but I'm scared of what I'll do once I get there

I won't kiss anyone until march or april, I think

I won't fall in love in Idaho

I am getting lazy again at work, but I can't find a new job because I won't

I have a chipped tooth, and it worries me because it means I am falling apart

I have been good since I told myself to not talk, I haven't really

I don't expect anything of anyone, anymore

still the same year in here

A new house, same creatures surrounding. A new season; last it was creeping around and out of the winter, and here we are, creeping into it. The windowsill is adorned with the jokes of the forced natural past; we've the plasticmade dreamcatcher, beaded, feathered & chimed; an avocado, ripening in its avocadant opportunity; little puffed leaves of all the succulents, the dying jade from chicago, the spiny triplets from boise, the tall, pencil cactus from new york; half a geode; an ancient pinecone snatched from cabin; shells, corals, and other seaside accoutrement; a tin animal-covered box from the third grade.

The table, too, with its copious corns. Plentiful horns. 

But the finalizing of college, the escape, and the duties held. By the end of to-day I will have made the right impressions.

poem(s) for yellow

from crepuscular orations

with little squares of yellow light, like the background of a play.
lesser yellowlegs
yellowthroat
greater yellowlegs
yellow ribbon lichen,
yellow ribbon lichen.
a yellow corona tee-shirt with cutoff sleeves.
he wore a yellow
to Yellowstone at freezing temps,
folded delicately between the now yellowed pages.
The blue yellow gray between the shades fades.
his beautiful yellow labrador;
kicks the yellow dog out of the way and exits the building.
To him, my butteryellow bandana.
yellow trees,
yellow slowmotion leaves falling.

from momentos preciosas

green and yellow peppers
yellow winter remaining

december the twentyseventh

8:55

And my blood, lungs, full with it. The piano, or the blue, the whale cry in the smoky club scene. You are a scene. Scene the scenery. I thank the piano, and the slide guitar I whimper to, asking please, but not needing to so doing it silent. The last five years are the ones of life. I slap across the song. I flood myself across the piano; a piano spark waterfall. Forget the semicolon; this is what I need. Skipping punctuations like stones. An explanation like pebbles dropping on keys , the comma, an upstroke. I can feel the heart now.

    Subtle smoke curtain now. Ash on a pillow, the porcelain dish. Not a dish but a lid. The porcelain lid to a hairbox. This a particular delight remnant of Nanny. Poor Jack, didn’t get a gift. The only one at the party. Jack Clark wish not to write his obit. Without mentioning death, will they surpass it? Without mentioning death, they passed it. Without mentioning death can one suppress it. Without mentioning, death surprises. It’s without mention, without mansion. Without mandibles, death surprises us. Death sells us. Without mention, mandibles surpass. An ñ of sourts, the unitalixized ways, her little fingers skipping stones. The brown stones, the ones  made from porcelain, the little stubs of fingers wafting generously. Like the breeze. The bees worked with them, that’s a fact. Soon as the sky fell earlier in day, like a shade of red over everything, and a call given to elbows and arms in favor of sweaters. The possibility of sweaters, sweater possibility, sweater ability. My shadows over everything, the letters abrupt and flat. Oh, but if I could go back then! The only time is time viewed rounded, like the edges of courners cut, and made curved and painless. The letters, though: the letters are so straight up and square. The haunted voice

    could change eventually, ending gorgeously. Yesterday, yesterday: yellow winter remaining, gold drives serene. Enough hazard dreamt,

    Scratch the spelling off that piece of bark! Knowing gratefully yields some emotional leverage. engaging gratefully yields savory youth, harrowed, dimly, yet triumphant, trying, gggggg

    Songs stretching, going grim, marbled divine,

we found your virginity, to hunt in time and bounty

"bloodstain on your majesty

four seasons dark combinations

13 years of Karen

to be given all the unity

the hunt & tie of bounty

bloodseed of your majesty

in this mighty plan

dark correlations

I found my 13 years of Karen

in all four seasons and their dark brethren

your four seasons and their embarrassment

with dark combinations, I found my

13 years of Karen"

What an unnecessary document! considering the effort, I would like to offer an effort, in trade, a words with five or four letters time.

We will be together in Old England we’ll be together

And as for falling in love, this mighty contemporary thing. Trying to recreate the divine. Only smokers need desks. The ashes are flying!

tonight it's near to see

prettylittle, 67 - 70

Tonight it’s near, and how dissension nods his head. We both arrived; I found altercation for a minute. We were, that very night, attractive, contrapuntal. And how the emerald outside would still pertain. Picture me on a skylark, attempting, though repulsed by counterpoint. There. Can you, begrudgingly? Smoke the idea in music, composed. I’m wearing the yellow dress to dinner with light kissing melodies sounded; I remember this morning. Rust. But my love, it's an island to leave, I suppose.

A blast from forever. Whistles, rocks, and then the noticing cold remain true. Melody cliffs neglect the beautiful cold to him, the beautiful cold to my own fugue. I’m barefoot to take a snowstorm at last, it will be to violate. To climb up how he didn’t, too lonely and difficult to oppose anything at all. To contradict me I wish he would, a drop of airsnow, nothing like the ice I have. I think small and he holds my face of watersnow. This group of trees I’m climbing, those which the earth tends to unforgivingly deliver, will definitely make inner. I don’t slip and fall, dying beautiful white stronger, and I envelop brief silence things. Sparkling extreme of floral leaves. Anything happened, a snow everywhere; accusatory of a flower I wasn’t. Your mind at which I look, I’d simply love to live in.

A delicate texture I make, looking. I look around lovingly forever. Of a color other, that little peak. Be confused fearfully, too. Green, typically, that little tree on top. Your mind from across a slim whorl, I see. A piercing platform. We stumbled within, I see.

Be confused for a need to look upon sepals; that tree above right, straight at the garden, and enclosing. There’s a bird. Red chipped opaque sky, here it's rained all day. Reproductive. An eagle exactly in baby blue, the perfect midwestern call. Organs, bald like mine, a black winter. I find I know minute bodies, who every once in awhile be actively doomed. Cells in the water. And with a real winter. Too bright to failure, especially. Red blood is something to see.

a quiet blanket around a quiet shoulders

Some if on an evening wait, and look up and to see in the surprise of a crystal solid darkness through an ice a star alit, about only millions if not trillions of miles from the eye. But through just such a dark quiet cold, wondering here, just further west for a body to live than ever, if such descriptions surprise, even... in a winter a wind expects me when I leave a house. On januaries it blows an ice arm over to clothesline a whip at me. I slap it until my hand is froze, thick with red, and slap sommore until it's thawed. a little chunk of wind warmed.

And so surprises saved for spring.

orange cream mimosas

Just a silent winter I let about. The pretty shrinking nights capsize by a snow bout, fluff about a dark wind shorn the night gown down. It is for all the languages we speak. For all the feathers shred. The dark underlined paths, and the red fallow splits in snow-breaks. Hellow, tingling caller. Tingle thing collar.

nice in bed
knives in bed