someone says your name
and your
sun-striped teeth make you approachable
howling
like the window blinds on the porch
we see your eyes
on the tiny screen
and they are amazing
i am going to write this because
tab clouds cover star points
because we’re always distracted
like waves
that can never pod botanic
and even
each monstrous
curve
has a beating heart
trying on
(at least once)
the snowy white
that could hold forever
*
my winter is a shadow
that will soon eclipse
the tiny origami birds
we fold together
and i will brave the weather from the corner of my ordinary life
wishing for a couple of downers
on my days off
remembering all the skin poems i wrote
suede sky ballads on the roof
for the already inflamed
if words could change
the physical
who would you be and where would i find you
*
"expired pop tarts and a dozen tamales"
morning chatter / brain knuckles /
i’m down with it / radio a.m. / egg sling / chasing you around the golden fridge / feeling this kitchen is a higher life / sunny stove / bloody 91 degrees / gleaming pots /
hooks in a song / a traditional blvd thru poem city / sunshine walls / fragments of xMas stuck in a book / bowls of sugar / flops / you’re so funny on the highest level / we should go to brownsville and start a fire / i’m cooking new things / shadowy and sexy / we’ll find your people / try not to worry / they are probably in a shelter / confused /
phones dead / time pushes morning into sad sparkle / camouflage / fiestaware and green eyes / unframed day poem 804 / pineapple growing on a windowsill / squirmer boy / canning truths / we lie to each other on the stoop / talk summer / getting heavy in the / hot garage / clutter / junk / in the left corner / a tin wreath / hangs /
*
“STRUNG-OUT”
him
telling
a table of old witches
they’re just clutter
barren motions and
a scratched baby photo
time hack
crack
sleep before
the sapphire burn
until goodbye
until the day can repair itself
used images
fall
according to this
stream
your life is empty
watch in silence
with
dull eyes
comment with
hands open
against
the blankness
yellow nails
&
blue
smoke
...
'i can't find the ringing phone, i am lost in another fever'
wandering around
on bare feet
in a broken pool of ice
speak for me
fallen in snow slippery as oil
lonely love
i find the phone between couch pillows darkening
your face
i breathe wind through the branches in my chest
you’re sayin’ something ‘bout food
and
i need to shave my legs
pool boy start trembling in a time thicket
there are dinosaur monsters
bubble bitin’
spitting dew
through even more time
it hits my plexiglass
snowballs between the eyes
brilliantly stinging
once i smoked myself hollow
..
"i can’t wait till we are super gods"
and
fuck-up
all social media
or
just re-arrange face-hook and
blow up
heaven’s boring feather exhibition
we’ll burn all casual photos of Daedalus
in the old museum and make electric labyrinths
wrong
there won’t be any feeds & streams
just
spit and shit
all ghosts leave for the islands
as nuclear exoskeletons
we hitch rides with them
as Cotton & Candy
..
"The Bed Is The Car"
when you’re high as jonathan livingston
carving monstrous wholesome in the sand
thinking about all that fish
wasted
o, to slip out of bed
and step
into new skin
unpolluted & young
remember when it was easy
to
tunnel to the exit
&
how the dark
would eventually shed its scaly heels
remember when u were calm
& only used math
to turn love
upside-down
&
then slip behind the wheel
..
"after opening the gates"
i unfold you
a faint line on the wall
a sky-room full of wrecks
our imagined teeth
shiny glass
dressed in the beauty of a bare forest
i kill you
clutching paper
then leave in the shape of a rosy river
spooling
..
"CAR TITLE MIX_UP"
surrounded by calenders
that impossible photo
of us laughing through winter
laughing thru court
spilling coffee
on an acreage of notes
thrilling foxes
the smell of being bound
by leather
the heavy in beautiful
the underneath of alone
a box full of sometimes
sadness on a gavel
*
i’m wearing a geometric dress and holding a pink paper cup
because i am trying to take myself back
into summer
back to the garden-party. back to
the taste
of: lime, salt, coke and smoke.
you
without your nails
untitled
crossing flesh bone
as an unarmed
no name
..
"here’s to looking at you in a tough magnetic way"
it is
the
unsaid-text-disease
we say together
all twang and
boy
did u know
those glasses and that fur
give u sort of a pimp / noir vibe
nah
natural born kisser on
tornado crystal
our poisoned eyes
spin in the dashboard lights
we dread
the blue
sluggish aftermath
of hitting the jackpot
so
we are stalling
a bells and whistle paradox
invisible wings adhered
i show no wear
in my street
blazin
thigh-highs
this just in from the big guy in the sky:
the truth will shake shelves at the sun
sometimes i fake impossible falls
...
"my feet have been cold all day, will you make coffee"
i see nothing
cept an empty rental car
across the road
in the snowy dusk
in the portal
someone’s chicken answers to nimrod
& the monsters sit
in their long letter beds
glistening sleep
their eyebrows are stapled on
it makes me sick
to look at them
to move past the snoring tide
i follow the pillow line
to their empty
audio-heads
hanging
still wet
from the ritual
cardiovascular curl
pulsing tiny things
only borrowed in white
found ghosts running thru glass
sleep is in us
in all of us
the giant of looking
the revlon of space
...
"chill, in the snow"
like
so
almost everything we’ve done
we’ve forgotten
angels jogging backwards
almond hair
simple lists
fleshy trix
moving towards the rocking-horse wilt
a skull face
dies different
at the keyboard
white
open
wet
and the body
invisible
acrobatic dust
now
we take turns
being lions
being boxy-baby
rolling in the garden
spitting roses at the trees
we need a bail out
a long kiss
the tip as hot
the wound
a snowflake
the arrow
freeing the fakes
so we don’t growl
wolfman
...
“hurtled”
thru a melting space
that’s how your well-worn
fuck-off
arrives
that’s how
naked towers
topple
smashing petals and light
bodies lay strewn
about main street
take gander
each stroller
playful
cirrus
clouds
grassy wisps
squatter cries
inside leaves
day apples
i can’t do the math
it is still
so
terribly twisted
and from this moment on
i shall no longer stumble
just maybe do a slow fade
like a streetlight bruise
like the nothing
that cuts the tongue faster than
a blaring
goose
fucking in the open dark
christ
ingot
just tear the photo up
on
video night
*
i can’t watch your star snuffling
the way you flame fences
with your vacant hands
i’d rather strip a playful burn
than fan a broken wrist
*
i guess you just
eradicated eden
a flamingo blaring
off limits
in colour
i sit alone
on my throne
good goddess of the shaft
ice of thorns
glisten in my hair
a pine scent
memory
in a new winter
salty tear of mortality
the night chants
dandelions
and little bird souls
close & lock
the royal gate of blood & bone
..
"now wht?”
so now wht
will our graves
deep in a grove
touch the same stone
or the worn path to the marketplace
will an ancient one
stretch these beds like the starry spines of a galaxy
the bright curve of our leaving
a commotion of reaching
will it stain a tiny emptiness
in an even tinier mud-walled hut
will the pine we sleep in
be forever pining in the ground
a sacred symmetry of how-do-you-do
only slightly rearranged
perhaps a cool lining-clasp is
touching & robotic
beetles have gathered
to hollow out rivers of bone
-=-=-=-
then in another spot
a sleepy trickle
the smothering of a box
a strand of sand
the drowning mouth
another ancient one
leaning against a rented fence
whispering the completeness of a playground
or a ceiling
over lovers
the endless shores of a small square
mountains of now
& in the peripheral
a common housefly
-=-=-=-
this is the future
the pigment-on-plaster blend
a guy standing in the street
eating a bag of potato chips
his face partially hidden
by a cherry-wood beard
no one knows it’s
michelangelo
contemplating
another
god-wall
..
yah! test drive! by Tasha Klein
tunes:
redlight 02 (feat.
hornet & shuga twigz)
light as starflight
grown dark
&
shadowed
bcuz
absence is:
a spiral tag
sky seats
& ventricular windows
throw
fake sun-
crackle
..
shake up the ice
run holes
highway sparks
step on the gas
smoke the up
thru glass
…
vowel burns
vomit
kiss to imagine
tart face
rubble grass
close to cut
circle ties
lipstick collar
plum treacherous
...
“a kind of space patchwork”
u were in my dream this morning
in avalanche-speak
we slid down hills
or just froze into
a rigid
two shadowed
thing
black sky &
a beautiful
fog tree
a garlic crop glowed orange
that orchard is a joke
u said
so we pretend-swam
over it
in a restaurant with
glowing walls
we read the news
another wasted army
tears blossomed in me
i let the slanted sadness drop
how long will we be trapped in work city
i sobbed
another couple stared
their mouths
sere swards of coarse bits
a waitress appeared
she took down our order
with a cattail
...
“a poem about missing u”
habit to recognition
come in please
electrically serially
talk louder
lipstick it
to me
i dreamed you cut me out
of your selfie
and i died
i dreamed
lego purses
pentheus by-blocks
&
how the sky misses the worse
&
the giant power of imagination
we were kids in a blurry state
then we were older
deities
drinking ensure out of breakfast cups
pouring time
onto deserts
our tattoos reflecting the stars
..
“divine heartbeat”
essentially my want is a beautiful
pink
i see you
omit
buy and kill
i’m glad
may the adjuster stay red
but my room is still blue
a complicated blue
in a terrible world
so give me the night
it’s just clothing
..
“too tired to perk-up & act lucky”
but
listen
to the clicking
ice cubes
& cross out
round one
of the elixir
of me
this foolish broom head
wanted to experience something
in rainbow dew
trick you in stockings
smoke the locks of the bared
hydrant
lurk in the bark of the moon
play status
wear the cape made in china
around little dark corners
...
“watch the comments fall..”
heavy like dinosaurs on an internet testament
stories of yourself have bodies
tweet and see
horrible deleted people
crash on myth interstates
laughing and driving is not a crime
yet
flowers explode after the screenshot
let’s try to remember the beauty of ghosts:
Isnt & Wasnt
..
“wrote..”
the dreaded love poem
the other day but i’ve been working so much i don’t have time to post it
and now i am going to bed
hey
did u hear i’m moving up
to sterling
suite 21
with a doorbell
full of spider kisses
and resin in the speakers
i’ll be out
in my
hollow face
wild eyes
exposed
waving to the cars going by
looking for you
while my feet
tread water
under
a frightened
moving sky
i’ll be lusting for loose sleep
my dreams netting out
to a fathom ocean
letting words splash around
like turtledove milk
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