Thursday, September 15, 2011

sign. on my back.

she said ‘you’ve a sign
on your back — did you know
says “kick — me”‘
i didn’t know
but i know now
the dances are all fine
the dancers finer
but in the end i stay up late
past everyone
and write about things other
than real or true
every last bit buried in code
an endless stream of non
what comes out — look
over there — fascinating
certain films to tears
certain songs to heart thrums
my beautiful lucky when
when i was
not really
not chosen
stopped the gap
can not complain
certain films to turn away
wishes and fishes and over they go
can not be sad
certain songs to grip and squeeze
look at all the lonelies
here in the lonely box
things are as and not over yet
tattooine turns on its two suns — did you hear?
mars in spring — i’ll go
it’s time
i don’t mind
damn the sign

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

two over

universe smiles and waves
i leap up in the sunshine over the beds
clean blue sky and fresh air
over the trench i go the dugouts are deep
and cool with fragrant mother
happy horses trot along snort at me
i have to hug them excuse me
beautiful wooden wheels on the steel
look at that shine!
twirl up and take a sky spin with Wilfred
he takes a line: so many of me still live
but i’m off! for tea and scones with Hinden the Burglar
woah the Keezer! actual and not sad
having done his best to read the words
hey i’m carting with kemal and an armeniac
too fast! too fast! so they slow and old Allenby
drunk asleep across T of E
weird but sweet, the edges neat and tucked in hospital corners
flip to ypres and here is where
shicklgruber got hit with the light
spent the rest of his life
working with jewish cats
oh could they swing! oh could they wail!
they say rock and roll cures everything
but i know it’s the hard bop
so we take it to the top and spy
doug’s small beady penguin-eyes
and i stop
flutter down
and whisper words of wisdom to his pressure vessel:
not you not you
this was never you
now dance!
and he does.

Friday, February 11, 2011


in the deep black freeze little hot dots
hot burning souls
human is a radiator soul
nothing out here but burnies
wicking up and spinning photons into fire
coming together right now
hot toes dance the nuclear floor
too bright to look just like the star
sweet simmer star makes the summer
super deep freeze burning women
twine on flame men
make fiery littles to sizzle up the nothing
everything seen now in the hot lights
ninety nine and detailed from a light year out
all remembered every small blue white moment
when the fuel goes dark and the jets sputter
the cold cold reach bows down and takes
the last embers to dust
grateful for the rare last light
the three times move back forward and beneath
roaring furnace faces
hot souls