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speaking light through the
air. sex lamp
Oh, the architecture. the empty contestant squints
skills
unclear, or
our flight
a desert,
without
whose newborn rain closest
a sandblast of The
skimmed
armless
outside fish-mouths open. the I membership
pharmacy,
full as waterglass, lightning scrimming
in
squeals.
the television guest out for semi nude girl in sable waist,

where are you going? I feel weird.

---

holiday tray. smoke chain. ear-lead.
fuck you? fuck me, lobe bone.

OooooO, line wiggle in the belly of my
fat head

drip giggle

Aims is playing with bare teeth

you don't say

transducer. loose interior.

rum balls
pumpkin pound cake
all I really wanted to do

was?

kiss.

doodles

feet in the grass

wandering, wandering

reefer breath. a green stillness.

my semen on strange faces. the backseat of
death

-In The Next Room-

is everything Okay?

no, and I'm sure it's me, my
get-drunk-want-stare

pulse inmate

teal smile.
striking erection.
ampule.

saliva skating

outside, the city glows. Nina doesn't know why
but, chartreuse comes to mind.

you said we could leave soon
you said the empty spaces
are bothersome

where did I leave my flower

right where I put it

where?

in your hair.

'It's Cuter This Way'

the rain: at the edge
of everything

the sky: upside down
in a puddle

cuesta. red cloud motel.

corners running into corners
sinus headache. torn paper objects.

I hate it here..

untitled

halotrichite hair. tube socks.
slutty spine. tender hyphen.

Nina finishes her cig, gets up and slides over to the fridge.
Takes out a glass bowl, filled with lemons. She loves their
still, bright light. She sets them on the small table, next to the jar
filled with flowers.

can you hear their tiny
watery, murmurs?

he smiles & turns around ..

the lemons or the flowers?

flowers

didn't I give you a yellow one?

no

shouldn't there be some sort of seasonal veggie in that bowl?

no.. I like lemons when it rains. I'm going to log on.

why?

I want to label IP addresses.

nah, don't. get back in bed, you need rest.. I'll rub your back, we'll listen to the rain

.

wavy clasp. electronic
moon trance. secret
listen:      long
bird. (we should have kept it)

    gravel. thighs.
skinny sky_lines.

    smooth walking. a key turning.
fibrous cores.

     walls. terminal. torn
polyester membrane.

dented mouth approaches nude legs

please.. no one lives here

wet hair spread out on bare mattress
slender wristwatch
fiercely ticking

Nina rolls over:
icy black
tattoo
on the small of her back


.

.

.

NEX/US

-MONDAY-

in the room where we don't really ever wake
light silvers this & that

under an uneven quilt
my face points to the ceiling

but your pupils seem soft

I once read that dust is mostly dead skin

dancing a jig. finger prods.
fluted column. anaesthetic lock.

gutted wing. sitting shade. your blush
has its own reciting of around. clown.

turn star. water metal.
why are you so pissed off?

mispronounce. snare glass. spooked sill. link.

ah.. I kiss your violent wrist. ajiaco! back! plum!

the fat cat slinks out of the closet
stares at them
then swaggers over to the small nightstand
jumps up
knocking over two plastic cups.

outside, the sky presses its postcard blue
onto the window.

frozen aesthetics. glass inlay.

I've been thinking about changing my name to, Anya

suspended. camisole. delicate brush strokes.
dove.

but Nina doesn't hear his last thought. she is already drifting again. riding
bright equine forms. dazzling in tired subways. her heart a generator. memory clip,
flickering. apocalyptic tights tucked neatly into short boots. amethyste eyes
shattering.

by the time you get back, I will have sketched your image on this headboard.
I will repair your eyes with lullabies. place the perpetual motion of soft
universes under your sweet feet. pull your thighs into a more private plot, & re/velum your pillow.

will you paint my hair that new
metallic
'slipper orchid' color?

.........


-TUESDAY-


they wake to the happy sound of the cat
swatting her bell-ball across the floor.

Nina decides it is the perfect day to
organize all her umbrellas.

we should go out today.. sit in the garden

I don't feel like getting dressed

you don't have to, I can decorate your skin in clusters
of dark secrets. we'll take the cat with us.. watch her hunt

get lost in the sound of dying, the rustling of sad

we'll take a picnic brunch & your
red Lambrusco.. "motionless as peace."

will you read, "Sonnet to Satan" to me?

"Sonnet to Satan", indeed. how 'bout,
"Ariel"?

long
thin
silence___________________________

broken by the plop &
skid of the fat cat
landing on top of the fridge.

make it, "The Night Dances"
and you've got a deal.

"motionless as peace" is from a poem by Emily Dickinson

"Sonnet To Satan"
"Ariel"
and
"The Night Dances"
are poems by Sylvia Plath

list

1) some sort of incense to put in 3 ring zip-up binder
2) find out if there is such a thing as a red morning glory
3) compliment ____ on some of his newer stuff
4) what words are clouds born with
5) wash curtains
6) fingernail polish - clear
7) silver cufflinks