you & me at kenwood parkthat one photo of us:you in a coca-cola t-shirt, cigarette arms distortedby the wide angle lens,shielding me, not yet the poet, from the sun.denim on…
I like a boy who can haunt me,whose lean against a doorframe is a bitten lip. I’m a sucker for a liar’s smile, sweat-wet hair and eyes like a horse…
They do not care about the music—Beethoven, Mozart, the drunken days spent alonedrooling over vein, bloodThe gut-churning, the cello—a wound failing to tightenThe metronome continues:the keys are falling offyour one…
Cracksa woman comes to me dressed in a shrunken river’s sigh/ i read the small print of her ambiguity by the light of my hurt and hope for an open-ended…
Count his toesDid they count his toesthe morning after the nightthe trees held their arms backand let strangers passboughs of Switzerlandhow many fingers did they haveunlatching the sash lockof the…
listening for the single rattle of the mixing ball, stirring polish the perfect shade of thin. today she and i, we paint our nails,with polish lifted from the backwoods supply…
A Song of Al KalineUrchins and orphans are different,the crenelations in the foldsof their faces,their beautiful faces.The starfish are not restless,and the Camero never entersthe frame.Maroon is a lazy color.They…
She fasted to such an extreme that she took absolutely no bodily nourishment and lived for full three years without any desire for eating. …
you watch it drag its fleshy belly along the bathroom tilecontracting and lengthening an inch at a time unfurlingits disgusting business onto your clean floor you havebleached each surface until…
