the form of an old form
HAPPENS
The things
that do, happen
quickly, or
not at all.
TO BE
And or not
or feeling not
well or weeding
out the bad
that’s being.
ECHO
He said “lightning,
and the thunder.”
He said “lightning,
and the thunder.”
TIME
Is what happens to you,
when you count, counting
to keep track. or not
counting at all, you’ve lost
count to begin with.
FAKE KITCHEN
The plant leaves
on the floor, the flour
and crust of something
the coffee stains, stained
the almost white counter,
barely a counter, barely
a kitchen. There is both
jam and jelly, still. There are
times for both.
THE MIRROR
Says too many things
that are true.
A MAN THINKS
To be better
to be better
to be better batter
to be a better batter
to be a better batter,
like butter.
FRESH
The awful crush of
flesh found managed
but it’s new to you still.
*
The reason behind
the reason is that you
didn’t want to go anyway.
*
Who is unhappiness?
and we wail in waiting
like we’re in love.
PHOTO
These always
keep, keeping
me looking drunk
and out of style
and fucked.
ONE NIGHT
Across another
and another, left
the pee steps,
the further ones
and further out
the rains, the mess, the drain.
WORDS
They are
what we are
not that we are
what we were to say would be
to burn.
SUMMER
Right now, I’m sick
and later this thing
swings the swigs to
no one in particular.
SOAP
The dirty
ones
use it.
COLOR
The kind that
came through
the window,
tonight,
as bright as
white.
DISTANCE
This is what
we create
for ourselves.
*
The move, the
merrier movement
we danced as if we
didn’t have anything
better to do but be
so far away.
*
Faded faces
as a memory
token and taken
to bed each night.
AS IT RAINS
We sit, and think
about thinking being
like raining
and how they haven’t
come up with
a rain jacket
for thinking.
JAIL
I’ve never been,
but I hear
it isn’t nice.
WATER MUSIC
The leaking, like
letting things go.
PARTY
The say, what
little of what is
left
at the end of the
night is
our lives like
left in a heap
on the couch.
Something to
be cleaned up
tomorrow.
AWAY
Turning away,
or what’s in
from the out of
today, and the
away to be away.
SOUND
Sing me a song,
the one about how you
lost your legs in the war
and had to swim back.
I always liked that one.
TYPE
I type this as if
I were playing
a piano. I type
as if this were
my job. The type
of job that doesn’t
pay enough, but
you love, and I love
music. That’s the type
of love I love.
HERE
Here is there
where the
you is.
SAYING
Yes, that’s what
I was saying,
saying all along.
*
There are other
things to say,
simply that
you treat others as cacti,
or that I care about
you what do you say
now?
*
“I know. I made that part up.”
THREE
Isn’t company
stupid, it’s
a coward.
STILL NEWS
Until tomorrow.
SOMETHING
You did it,
but didn’t
believe it,
and you felt the same
way over the past decade.
*
You should see this flower.
You haven’t been
yourself.
*
There are things
that tell you
you should do
something about
some things.
CHANGE
Some things
just never
change.
do they?
LAUGHING
When something
this funny
happens in the air
there is only one
thing to do about it.
AS YOU COME
You teach kids
to read; honey, I’ve been
so better off with you
and I want you to know
it isn’t
an Alice
or a weathered, withered Beatrice.
The seeing comes like
something felt in the deep
folds of my older flesh.
The place where there is
no more anymore.
*
Hanging on until
Fall, I’ll recall the
times of the summer
spent fresh and full
and fulfilled.
*
And how I
speak to you
over rather
people versus
landing in
jail. Hands down
she sleeps beside
herself
and, it’s cheaper
after she’s
woken up.
