8.25.2009

done dog

a dead dog can't be fished out
or explain how it was how it acted
it only knew you
spread out on grass
it wasn't self conscious
we keep talking and waiting, boring, longing
it is done like a business
it was so private

what?

I am am no expert

I cry two eyes

I cannot rap onstage

I eat Nutella like an Egyptian Queen

I make the spoon a candy

people get nervous in small talk in elevators

they wonder if they have headaches

when people my age go dancing

I paste coupons in an album

when a strange number calls I leap to the phone like flames

my plants sag

my basil withers with low self-esteem

Egyptian Queens smell really strange but that is half the fun

their headdresses fall in their soup

their soup was made by slaves

their lovers are not proud

their Nutella is spooned incessantly

throughout dragging afternoons

it trembles in my book

Oh man, I say this
parents persist
the dead linger linger
a real love will grip you
will stay as wet sand and
twin the same body
the real things they shush you
a sandwich is honest
the breathing is worth it

8.15.2009

sleeping ugly moon covered with eternal flame

O Lord my soul is swimming
and has ruined all my body’s good clothing

I was damp and God offered me a drink
his voice descended
“Well done O sovereign woman, let me gaze your naked heart”

God’s mighty arm carelessly jumped roof to roof
each dark abode was hewing
I was reluctant and he said
“I will give you a golden ray”

I drew my shirt close
I already had a golden ray

it was old, but still worked
I used it on the stairs at night
and occasionally during the day

God scratched the sun and clouds scattered
a big wave came and broke my shirt

God’s vision handled my bosoms
I’ve handled hundreds and hundreds of bosoms
said God
his eyes shone with weeping

8.14.2009

your soul, barely

your soul was hidden with hair
had on it, a few proud moles
the witchdoctor believed to be normal

we were outside on a towel
my soul was lit up and obvious
yours, we determined, was obscured
unusual and unwilling

you were the pet falcon of an old woman
you were a child’s best trousers
do you like the drums?
you were a drunken songbird put in with owls
do you smell the odor of a garden?
did you tell your mother you felt ill?
you got tired of talking
and left the tavern

an arrow, you sped from the bow
and pierced the eyes of villagers

it was morning
the children cried

you called it an illusion
you called this world a phantom world
you were still sharp
no one could hug you without bleeding

you were friends with angels
and the angels got injured

you were not concerned
your eyes were hot
you would not relax
the Blinded cursed you
and the sound of your name
moved your body like a song

you stabbed eyes and crops and the bedding of your neighbors

you fell on the rooftop
and leaked
you were dead, but glumly went and got ready to die
the man at the cemetery pointed the way
but you didn't go

you couldn’t give up wanting to be famous
you worried about what you were going to eat
you wanted to buy an engraved belt

we grew tired of you
so you turned into a rare bird to awe us

you were trying to make money
you pranced and looked sick
you were wearing an engraved belt