30 November 2011
27 November 2011
26 November 2011
Should I feed my starving dirty dogs?
Rocks will slow you down so avoid them.
It’s easy to get lost in a crowd.
Find the one who disappeared and touch him.
There he is.
(And one from CNN.com:)
Man: Kidnapped wife found in Cairo suburb.
25 November 2011
24 November 2011
21 November 2011
20 November 2011
19 November 2011
18 November 2011
16 November 2011
15 November 2011
14 November 2011
But we always lost track I guess because we were children
counting the “I know”s in Ain't No Sunshine
only thing in Gila Bend's a Dairy Queen
Your movement for man changes where you stand with God
you become a symbol of what is important to me; I kiss you;
you won't be last but for now you're latest
of people who have lived terms out as symbols.
It's cold now that it's late so I am leaving.
Knowing about you now I watch take off
your coat another man performing third
arm folded listening / I let my fingers
droop behind my chair darker than soft
his dark face (self-titled dark) ruptures and coughs.
He speaks too fast and stomachs lines like birds
you furrow and hold your jacket how you learned
to. “My belly a dead river” Daniel whirrs
O your reader drunk exhales meaning rocks
back and forth like slicing an apple / You stand perfect
with closed eyes / It’s heavy which Bob can tell
so he drinks white from New Zealand, pinker fix.
Chelsea says in fifteen years I’ll look like Scarlet
who has a nice look / I say I hope so well.
I made my mother watch the videos from home and she told me
to keep well away from the plaza. My aunt called
to say she could cross the bridge to come pick me up
and that I could “wait it out” with her in San Francisco.
Mono Lake wasn’t dry at the time of the printing
of the map of California on my wall.
Mulholland did that.
I don’t know much about this occupation except Love
Thy Neighbor and a friend of mine arrested
and an old prof stunned high on Vicodin for his ribs.
This could well be the end of Birgenau.
I just wanna learn as much as I can,
same as always. And teach people things
and cook them dinner, maybe kiss them or sing songs.
Unsurprising request-demands, officer, I know.
I wish I had more to offer than these handfuls.
11 November 2011
My love my love my love my love my love
is long on reason. We are much in sync
as begging ravaged faces to get clean
or orange growers when they plumb old groves.
I like to wait. It teaches me be tough.
I eat or don’t eat and regret my thinking
either preferable, black street-rain sunk.
Hugging her elbows like a corpse expecting a shove.
“This summer was my summer to feel nothing:”
Zahide has not yet been bailed out.
A cogent cinches silk in at her gut.
What I put up with is less world-shouldering
than Zahide or orangers with no power,
the ranchers their protectors – or everything but.
Drunks in my kitchen but they shared with me
and taught me: don't bite too hard. Slice up the lime
but careful – coat the apple, twist twirl gleam.
The caramel slips wetly by degrees
alternately licked and heated. From young trees
drop deader fruits than we have ways to climb
for them, they drop and sour. And sister’s shame
melts brother to his debt – there’s acted beauty.
All one can take is one’s self: sister cuts hair
while brother drips grains of sugar into furrows
of dough to bake for a party. They will buy beer
stark, cheaper, darker than found in Del Mar.
Candied apples stuck to foil sag and show
a weariness beneath their mallowed spheres.