Foxtrot Fidget

Each burn towards the other leaving the other lasting and sound

A matter of belching and squeezing the sound out of the rest of the place

a heart races

the figure moves

The ultimate nature of the pleasure of the men is the same as pleasure felt

As sounds to know the truth as women sit and talk about one another, truthfully

some cry

some cry a lot

Is that chair going to keep sitting there, looking at me, looking like a vagina

And are the vapors going to hold just for a minute like the 60 year old drag queen

too much rouge

& minor adjustments

A risible dripple down the floor as a hampering for distance and quench the quake

Behind the town where the trees riot higher and reach, always reaching, never reaching

their leaves fall

like quenched crying

If the distance is perfect then as you walk away there is a more perfect perfect coming

And if the one can evade the long tie time the gleaming great-hearts are there with it

singing and

staging war

This isn’t a game and playing around with the emotions of real human beings will fail you

There will be other failings and too many hang-ups and there is something I need to tell you

I haven’t told

anyone, anyone

To observe so many ways of moving green, murder as growing grass and cutting up the other bits

The nevering abandon grows and plants secrets where the growing gives up and turns to simple gas

what the hole

is for

The comes in and stands in the room the cleanness of understanding shifts the blame to the other room

Do you fathom what this means, when the curl and flutter comes close to being a great idea in the horror

lips to grip

and wet nights

If you fall and take the choice in choosing you know you made your choice by not standing so still

Still, there are tempers to treason the gadgets that help to make the choice and they’re en route, stalled

somewhere up

there in the Bronx

And the entire household contains all the non-mourning relatives that have nowhere else to go this time

And the guest bedrooms all moan at night, the lurk, click, discipline for darkness, and slushing in the dark

a simple shush

and small stains

To be punished and rewarded in the same sentence and feels like men and moms moving to another town

Like taking the road because you’ve been taking it your whole life and don’t know what road means

too late to say

love wasn’t it

Going courting with the missing parts and the blessings that hover over the bed and beckon for more fruit slices

The word for “neither” you have doesn’t reckon to the real reasons that make your face so fancy and

so simple it

doesn’t smile

Up the back, higher, fanning, falling, filling up the rest of the basin, and forging a document like a family

No faces as cloaks and the eulogy allows some to grow apart and others to grow as one, they all share so much

genes and sisters

sharing jeans

The day disappears as calmly as it arrived and forgets all about the stress of the inbetween bits

There was no being there for him, on the holidays, and it killed he wasn’t there for his family and

what did he do

unlikely to be true

We move to the music now and dance and sway to hold each other closer and that feels and we’re so close

And the breath, the trimmed beats, the alignment of the metronome makes it monotonous and boring and

we call that

enough for now

In a time when moving makes Colorado seem comfy there are other places still to move to and that’s alluring

Here it comes, outstretched and whistling the whimper as if it were a song, a song stable enough to dance to

forward, forward

and side close

New & Selected Short Walks

Introduction

Walking gets you from A to B and then C and back to A again. Walking works, unless you can’t walk, and then wheeling usually does the trick. Sometimes neither, even short ones work. Sometimes you can’t move. And sometimes you have to fly.

I know where to walk to get things done. I walk there often. You can walk as if you have someplace to go, even if you don’t, and then people move out of your way thinking you’re important. But I don’t walk that way. I walk like I have someplace to go but the where isn’t important.

Walking which paints itself into lines of thought and action converge on the stepping parts. Sometimes thinking is stepping. This sounds like walking is of major importance, and it is, but it isn’t the same as vital. Thomas Mann once said “Thoughts come clearly while one walks” but I disagree, to a degree. It’s possible to be walking and not even thinking. It’s why neurotics should take more walks: it’s easier to have a blank mind while walking than it is staring at the white(ish) wall in your apartment. The mind is busy making walking happen, rather than wishing for something soothing.

Walking is efficiency and meditation and calm in movement. Long walks, while epic, imply aimless and directionless point of view (or, simply, lack of cab or bus fare). A short walk can be to the point, like a witty quip, and can linger in the memory longer even as its importance is so trivial as to be stupid.

Can you walk to where you need to go? Not always. Can you walk to clear your head? Yes, definitely. Can you walk to Timbuktu? Not usually. Can you walk to save your life? Yes, and often we do.

Short Walk To The Mailbox

Down

the stairs.

Short Walk At Noon

Dinner will come,

soon

and I might be hungry then.

And there

is nothing

around here,

anyway,

to eat.

Short Walk To The Store

When you get there they’ll know your name.

Short Walk In Winter

There are rules.

From mounds but.

He lifted his leg.

And froze something solid.

Short Walk Along The River

She spent spades on her hair.

The little grin

that meets

the almost perfect love affair, now long gone out to sea.

Short Walk For Just The Thrill

puddles.

Short Walk To A Place Called Love

And back again.

Short Walk Home

He said,

“I have nowhere to go”

and that’s how I left him.

Short Walk To The Bathroom

And then

sitting down,

thinking

about pear pits.

Short Walk Looking Like Emily

Tossed and fab-

ricated as done.

Looking like her dreams awake.

Short Walk From The Wrong Subway Stop

The further you go

the farther it

all feels,

even as

the distance

counts so few

feet, you can

count them

on one hand

(but not really,

you’re too busy

thinking

about your mistake

and lose count

after 9).

Short Walk To The Pharmacy

It’ll all end

up

terminal.

Short Walk In High Heels

She falls down

and taps the town

red

backed by the hers

here.

Short Walk To The Next Town

This never happens.

Short Walk Too Early

It’s sufficient

to tread

lightly.

He stands

on the cusp

of it,

the new morning,

not even light out yet.

Short Walk As Helen Of Troy

It’s nice to

pretend

sometimes

but almost

always

ends in

never knowing

why.

Short Walk To Get An Eclair

Luckily,

the bakery

is such a

short

walk away

from here.

Short Walk, Reading

It’s funny

how in not looking

others can

continue

looking out

for you.

The bump-into

as a bruise,

a sometimes kiss,

and an acknowledgement

of walking as a means of

reading to one another

of the “yes, that’s not me,

it’s so me to be like that.”

Short Walk To Work

It’s gotten

shorter

since starting

to take the bus.

Short Walk As A Movie Never Watched

You try

and usually fail

to find the other things

that make walking

interesting

to someone else

watching.

Short Walk With A Bitter, Lonely Old Lady

There is nothing to talk about.

Short Walk To The Salon On Your Lunch Break

And back

again,

again,

because the

wait

would last

longer

than an hour.

Short Walk To Where She Comes From

The braids

and bras

still don’t

start to make

sense.

And he still says,

“this wasn’t worth

walking to”

even as she

is in the middle of

shaving herself

clean.

Short Walk Towards Facts

And somehow

the facts were

missing, or

so obvious

as to appear

missing.

I missed them still.

Short Walk Back From The Mailbox

Up

the stairs.