Moon

Burn out

a bulbed cylinder yellow/white and

suspended from air

in a little gray shadow above my table.

Provides momentary blindness

that scares my pupils and invites

my whites/blues

from across the room. She stares.

I put it to my lips

and pretend like I was the moon.

Cratered and crackled, a broken path

and I can't see how that's appealing. Well,

I ended up buying drinks. Must be the new thing.

Cickle

Seu Seu, quack little
duckll-ling, quack
doctor. Jonez people
they-------------------------
----------------------------lie
in BED zzz...zzz...zzz...zzz...zzz...
...zzz...zzz...sleep...zzz...zzz...zzz.

Wine

Wine

con artists and connoisseurs--in the same body.

Rich, mahogany.

Sweet and dry like their insides, but

sips with chiming glass

shatter. In broken tables

laughing about the splintered pedestal

they sit, and sit, and sit

until they sip so unsoberly

it really doesn't matter.

birds

the globe spins on its head

and spin it silly, silly peeps popping up

to get first breaths, momma birdie

play tweet and regurgitate insight.

emotions. 

with a chirp chirp

another baby booming speakers. in

its pod it sits, hatched and broken

with shell splinters pickled in alcohol.

collections.

dip and dive with

chickies singing sorrys, wedding

bells and babies calling into being

born with first breaths. regurgitate

or

lay in bed.

Fresh

Every word you speak
is fresh
like the farmer's market.
I am a boy and
an apple is red, with moist
skin; it sits.
Like autumn's 30 days. Like the boy
who sits.
Whistlers tune their grandfathers' melodies
with sticks and berries. Red
apple juices in their fragile hands.
Andrew plays his grandfather's lips,
sings
red-handed.
Every note is fresh.

Myself

"Can I bake you a ring?"

Said the pastry's chef

to his beloved king's queen.

No reply, only a map to Noway.

I wanted to talk to him, myself, because

it looks so much prettier outsigh--

the flours, they grow out there.

You'd think he was an oven.

You'd think he had a plan.

You'd think, but you've had

just enough to drink,

young man.

College

Lick my fingers, sweet, dry berries in clear cups spilled in red parties, swimming against the current wet topics and full beards, eating and drinking your body so silly, tickle the thought process in bed with lights dimming down instead, quiet the scene and pour me something so soberly.

The Subway

Subway fingers grip many metal
materials
and books to provide havens.
From being in boxes,
I see how they think.
It's the smell of sweet detergents
and fresh rain on dripping umbrellas
that makes us family
for 20 minutes of solitude,
in our aquariums that are speckled with
sweat and dried food, lost music
and breath.
In novel terms, it's nothing unnatural
but I still wonder why
they don't just talk to each other.

Doctor

Chemical imbalance and

my best man

work hand-in-hand to fuck things up

in my head-in-head

we think of reasons to doubt and shallow out

really awful plans.

It comes with the contract. My

pen, it

can't write anymore

and I've decided that I'll live in this apartment

apart from the chaos that I created, hand-in-hand with

my head-in-head.

Just go to bed

they said, they said.

The Band

You beat more than you can bite.

A sand pedal, and the shells clash accordingly

to the sound

                      of it

with wet fingers, I slip my mind

into your tender bathing suit and swallow

your insides. I see your heartbeat

beat beat beat and more than you can bite.

The dock is lit

and I am still.

Susie

Susie

wrote it on my hand

four zero eight - eleven eleven

left before seven

ate the rest of the Wheaties

and smoked your photograph

pretty

Hypocrite

You scream sorority and
cry out for Greek letters--to paint your lips
wet, smoking out spells and living under tunnels
with the graffiti in your back pocket.

All a letter for endorsement into what
you aren't,
and better than who you are now.

But I'm just the poetical hypocrite.
My faults,

they're limited to where I sleep
and the number of pillows I lay beside my shapeless
shapeless
body.

I am Play-Doh and my face is handsome and girls touch it
and it's strange and not planned but 
I wish only one person liked me
so it wouldn't be so difficult to
be so

unoriginal.
Our photographs, mattress,

or your necklace with a receipt
is all I am.