Beethoven Liked Golf, Natch

You know how much I owe to the credit card companies, how it is to begin again, and what old music creates in my chest--conflation.

Do you dance the genius?

They'd don't call it the Blue Monster for nothing.

A dun glut grunts.

The inside of your golf ball is orange green or blue.

Who of us will be today's oppressor.

A page of miniature reindeer red shivers an unblue body bare feet. As a homophobe I braid myself. Tree stump fresh of its tree. Let's say aspen on the verge of.

The gay stereotype is entertaining. Tell me.

What I brought to interrupt the love story, words

A Dutch painting's walnuts in a white and blue bowl make me fall in love with you. No, Tim, it was you and not the painting that makes me express. I've never imagined your eyes closed without me.

O doggedly handsome you are unavailable, or I am.

I keep telling everyone to go to Al-Anon.

When could you desire me, chasing for when I'm a child the sounds of nine pins struck attention.

Or swept cursives we wrote denial at desire at us desiring to be together without shame.

To sing a music outside

when I sought the numbering two numbers appeared

one I searched to find out what kind of magazines you searched for

which I could arrange and rearrange in numbers of washed-out chill willows

I saw that you were eating your lunch

saw that I was interrupting

and saw that you shut me out early

let the mission mirror you and allow its sumptuous revelry of light

if I peek don't tell me

you saw me peeking

this is a game of cupboards

my hands over my eyes in red arrangement

no my lids

something to cuckold

you wrapped me in the sheet of your lidding peculiar to me

in that it seems a motion to originate from the mouth

I want to step in

to glue the business of the machine

your mouth cuts against mine the desire I swallow like a tongue

just like a tongue to follow myself into unconsciousness

dust cuts a trail in wind and vice versa

on hours of waiting spread filth to interest

let the mission be the mirror I build a bridge to

so all can see so we whet appetites

fifth child of parents I race the young to the water

could you jump out of the two numbers I arranged earlier

like a hoop

or do you need three

could you search with me to find the magazines again

you told me you were busy eating your lunch am I interrupting

you are still eating lunch

I do glue the business of the machine

whether being lunched at or not I do glue it

I do create sentiment control the flow of song from your mouth

into my mouth then glue it shut

communication machining

you mouth me open when I shut down shut

shut and glue

do you see a way to cut my mouth open

without injuring your ability to lunch uninterrupted

I worry the waiting and spread the film of mouth on mouth the trail on wind the tongue the skin within me

the open mouth the open unconsciousness

we have two more years of wandering Mother

I harm so many of my spools of light against you

to find the magazines

define your lunch as something eaten without me

bothering my prodding

let the mission be the mirror I build the bridge from my mouth to your kiss to keep

blue glue kiss mouths

the keep of my mouth shut you inside my mouth

the keep of my shut mouth shut you inside

fifth child of my parents I want to assign an astronomy

this is a game of cupboards and where do you fit

do you wonder the string the yawn open

I get to be just and I get to be the string that tightens shyly

but complicit tight

what knot I ground myself against I found you sitting along the river

I found your face all scabbed with cringe

the flow of song from your mouth into my mouth then glue it shut

crowd out and clouds too of umbrellas

allow mirroring trestling

running its smile updown your face to dance not to sing to sly shoe

and presentations are wondering if I could be fifteen years of snowshoes in your garden

the keep of my mouth shut shy inside

bonking at the cupboard Mother

spokes pearl the lowground

I see your dust mixed in it

I took the easy pinch Mother could you answer

the string that tightens shyly

Mother can you snowshoe me back at your garden your garden its smile upsidedowning umbrellas

the minutes touch their hours

I want to build you my bridges

are you sure the muscle is hugging braiding the numbers

seconds crown down at the lip a bonnet

which you call windmills deprived of sleep pennies from the bents of your eyes

soap the beautiful napes of those chapter books

if you’ll lithe a few days there were apples to kill me

smell hot cocoa with water

cocks react to my own hanging

oh Mississippi the roomlessness of rural route numbers

I abandoned them in a streetcar of my skin

because they are hairy

cliffs anticipated heat

ribbons of wrens crack together

deception might believe Mother

I get wanting any ocean

your eye does it clover the Arctic

on the screen door the blood draws a silver sing of your back

twin beggings

a fly was both flapping hindlegs

you place a hunt away

paper towel on three dry martinis

encaustic their cold against the playground anchor the way violet is not a white

crows three by the sea and not mostly

butcher with sleep the head

your eyes create in me miles of mending

you pulse me inside

a salt a marigold river tries as ribbon body pulls

the hour we spent in ceiling

in the cardboard of the bunkbeds my peacocks and peahens

incredulous with suede and confusing

and all over I touched my principles

if you’ll leave me Januaries

don’t kick the citrus strange

we can snowmelt anything praying

shrine the sky his lips for the taste

for staring and hot chocolate are basic human needs

bramble’s tripling seeds

by iterations you want to make doubt with him

I’m sorry for this might put my hand in his pocket

the weird voice of a dictionary

some inner delusional speaker to menace

takes off the strung peppers

orgasms again apologizing

high school boys jogging past your window roadmap

sisters gloved with where they’re headed

it was both light yellow of water waiting

your letters and in them so many

curb your tight wests against fermentation

letters I kept them closed though wrens try

black the architecture of which no one knows

on and on my knuckles purple leaving in the mouth the good idea

thin as sunburn

your sister might be secretly weather in a cup

a hiss or just after melts ice a gash

pollen’s hips in sockets

a chrysalis encaustic freezes

your boyfriend sundials the thin crust of his tuxedo

the underground well on the subway

cousins naked as prom night

I have puked Christmas asparagus

keep your spiked cider on the front porch

mouth I an orange crush

the blop of rain on my tongue it smells carolers

the grape smell of cider is a carbon copy

I remember Denny’s was heavy with milk

unpredictable glitter snoring or making out

the playground sentences the river bottom you pick up to tell you through hiccups the pineapples’ diaries

the cars might smile who wanted me

I can’t blame you for all this love lettering the footbridge grinding

too shy apples embarrass river’s glossy topcoat

candy dances at the apple cider birthday party

bubbles the unexpected spend

we ask one another when asked to fall in reflections

we let rot fight long and roiling script

a yellow grape with juices

Alaska swallows the grape’s diary

pretend the states are people especially Mississippi she is heartbroken

it’s difficult to avoid ogling you’re steeping in your skin

have we stolen the express lane maybe we want it

at first as a joke your orgasm in my teeth a wing

perforated a speaker my sex

your triggers know how an hour to take

a seven swigs the ungodly the I’m in a movie

where Sam swallows Mark I was interested a prop

fingers playing flirty flirty

red dwarves and strawberries collect in cages

that scar on your arm you got it from a French knife in love

the skin teeming screech spangled a professional green

want to share bracelets of light

tickle searched his clavicle

we could chocolate somebody the now

on the quad implied an intimacy

two fish reference our wet noses

the Pleiades not blue in their sockets

the promise the moon sold

my face they tasted was wet no it was blinked twice last year this time

light wrung against a pear

distance becomes a giant’s ellipse

I could steep then remember water on a beach

at least on the first date icicles accompany mosquitoes

your pretty please lips

dime store amphibians twitch when you are sleeping Mother

silver smiles a milk snake one life span long

mouths you can hide behind

you are lemon purring crowns

the seconds would conglomerate stealing the homemade alarm

your pocket going into your body

you even collected barf bags

your glass lips maybe I could kiss drop of honey water

you sat on the frog trap and now no one will let you near the pond to see the lilies

the guy in shorts he went the other way the shorter path without the mud

I can only hope I have enough flour to last me until midnight

like points of stars to God

take care of star kiss for me while I'm away and take care of all the baby dinosaurs

none of us particularly know what they eat so please do your best

make myself a muffin tin

mister don't touch the spare key it enjambs the world and if you ever take it away from me I will give your head a whack from this ruled stick

anonymous lime jello cubes made me late

how to say hello to seagulls

all I have to do is stop at the bank, call my taxi, drop off rent at Dan's, eat dinner, go with Nick to homegroup, then shine time

the slipknot of the rush hour whore

first day of my freedom vacation

did I learn it from the Italian sausage at Caron?

the reason not to have a car is that I could taste it

why I like the word bitter so much

my stewed fruit breath

nor do I have time to be your fetish girl, little boy

I keep the smell of old lovers rustling around in my nostrils

I feel competent

I was thinking about that the other day

I have a window seat

I don't have a newspaper

I'll be human enough to make the mistake of too much luggage or makeup or gender issues

a stint in my spleen to help it beat like cardiac muscle

pretzels with cream cheese are extremely delicious

my face in a notebook is not so interested

I do not have air platinum status

but I do have to pee before boarding

let me take this opportunity to morning around

not to take the raft out of your mouth

you thinking it is warm sleep gum

no one expects me to get better

to find a husband but that is exactly what I plan to do

such a compliment made me smile deep in the back of my head

one kid smelled like tomato juice sitting next to me on the plane

the back of the ride nothing special no secret compartments no surprise characters or rice paddies

no lunches no esplanades no explanations no Rilke no silk no more four letter words that mean hot or gay no things not meaning what they mean

no one else telling me about how their parents are splitting up

the demon pent up groin need always hungering

hankering up my shirtsleeves to be petted

skitter the sleeves of my shirt with your heart and never let me catch you

you are a cool chameleon and I don't believe your colors

the real you is not a lizard at all but a bat

what occasion caused you to strike

don't you dare come back with a tan

your knee and throat are throbbing but not in unison

in the polka-dot linen red on green olive shirts lighting cigars on the plane the seats so high I cannot see anyone's bad teeth

the man and Sam still somewhere over there playing

church bell grazing this park

the food situation so difficult for a single nonparent

SINKs: single-income no kids

the spoon hunched over how much I need that food

I want dinner in my stomach, dessert at home with an optician husband

peoples' heads move so strangely when they talk

talking about their nicotine addictions like they're proud

how I am not part of a couple

without talking about hangovers

a woman pleading with her guy and smelling of hair dryer

three minutes to go until I get to go up and see the Monet

I don't have to look sexy I don't have to look miserable

iron rabbit teeth wanting to crunch something

the morning the tail feather touched heat

ice stung with wayward shores

did I tell you about the pot plant growing in my son's room he would never admit to it but it was yellow as a garden

the angel tail throw rug

Erika was upset at one of her piano students for playing at the same time as this really famous pianist at a restaurant

was a Vietnamese little girl

there were so many cookies everywhere for me to eat

I found a little uncomfortable bench with a curved back

I saw a father and his daughter wearing shoes

almost round things

a woman feeding squirrels peanuts out of a bag with a square bottom

who decided humans could have babies year-round and not just in the spring

unbathed becapped bescarfed day

that day of all mustachioed days

most people are thinking about dinner

art majors who eat linseed oil and perspiration only

the curiosity of the car horn bonked three times

prevents my reverie

I could marry a few people but I won't make that mistake again! says the teddy bear in a tree calling himself a squirrel

to prune the nasty bits of my soul far away from me

am I on file-how many places could look up my social security number as thought that was my name

I do the flower like Whitman intoxicates the grass green

blond pregnant women who takes pleasure in saying the word "guy" like it's a lollipop

children tell each other things so insistently no thought of a thought

the small inside the trousers people walking sick from effort

the heart the stick stir stump

I do not want to move from this spot though I'm feeling coed

a wire running up that tree

like two sneakers hanging down

some sort of electronics

a man just called his dog Sam

as recently as this morning

the oven I always thought I loved

no I did not date him though it's possible I dreamed about it

he had phrases like grubby fingers

he used my emotional anchor

pale pellets of songs over and over and over and over and over playing their hail into my hair

the bergamot shampoo either smells really good or is poison or both

but his new job could bring him redemption

I cannot answer any of your questions I can't even hold a piece of conversation

no starchy vegetables at all to back you up

no cooking just blank rice and "sir" and the possibility always of a cold pending the morning

vulnerable to mildew but claiming not to be

why could I never tell you that I was too sick to fuck

my hands shake with my throat

I have the cut up images we made together cut even further

none of you made me feel whole

not so much art as its application

I like tights.

You have red hair and I called you a rugrat. To the man who knows the man I love I called you a rugrat. Because I do have a crush on you, on your small teeth and the way you move your mouth like you chew tobacco and you don't. O I put that in there because I don't want anyone to know I like the ones who chew. I see your small Irish teeth and you have two tattoos. You told me meanly that I think all redheads look alike.

Iteration

the friar realizing his error that it was only that she had hid
articulate hard tines
of organ music and frequent showers
like a milk tight snake in the morning her tenderness
they tole me Arkansas II and Mississippi and you know what
recoils crowding around me like lit pages I stain so healthily
when all the characters are leathering
brilliant
laminate the wind
like icewater to moat
if Ted ever comes by with a fork
Tripodic
it had been so long my cum the yellow of snot I ejaculated in your
Water’s strange machine
tongues of lather
moisturizer your face in an embrace with mine our corseted mouths and
our centaur dries
I get wanting to clover your eyelids
clovers shone man at me and it could never have happened had any of us
your anchors sweat my lidding quietly in a wash a hungry eclipse spinning
terror I wipe a seeding awful many ellipse
ever been aware of what we were saying unless it was around someone we
its hindlegs tripodic
your scentway dries
a crowd. I know spinning enough
I din’t believe um I sat right now on my tush tush and crahed.
tho he never know it my love is so embarrassing my diary even

I ask my mirror reflection if we can’t make
a seashell’s amps a map
a garage door kick sour mouths
sort and pick. There would be so many tire swings
of you last night when a spoonful filled my apartment
tense would conglomerate only in the past, only by way
all the exercises stand stanchion still and silently
I ate unashamed the minnows
speaking their speak against the cold playground. I would
stir whorls and raisinettes left
I kept them closed though wrens try to wrench them
a commitment on the body the head
color pickling
these branches aren’t for securing a dam
is a neck of crows how many depends on
shin brackets asleep
when I scarred the backsongs we were meant to show
against gratis perfumes whirl
it was a heroin chic the opposite
fairground and she really was
in a bed of gutter
under glass stallions
your mouth moved
a quince tree whistles
of organ music and frequent showers
mascara, it was a poultice and
all those kitchenettes stuck in her hair
that the future and present
be questioning my own motives, sent through the future
were you wrapping your voice in creams

yet tight against my skull I can feel their influence
a bin of winks all fluttery
backsongs when I scarred many of us
to the maple tree, allowance, little

Poetry: It’s an auction off
not for us yet tight against my skull I can feel is nothing
it does not memorize.
and in it so many milks milks that haven’t been invented darling not for us
to get a hold of me is by pouring gunk in my.
It chases me from inside
like aversion of stockings
Anne Carson’s influence
nothing like a houseboy
smiles,
“I’m affliction.”
having been
You are a cup and a rigid sinner
a cotillion stem
I ask myself about stairs, especially
wet cane and snowmelt
swift windows and the marigold river that junctures the water cooler.
bugling, “We were meant to show young perfumes’ lids’
ending” sour after the fact
We’re having a fundraiser on Friday, October store.
Don’t be coy I know you have one Thank you
teeth apart sex? spiritual compilation. It can be pointed. I am a wheelbarrow
car. Smut memory this doesn’t have to be
I appropriate 2 gray cats 4 crying hinds. Here we cast up, lips together,
my pulse a cup a pointer apologize remember the best way

gray not in color but feeling the rasp
soaking in vinegar a bin of winks all fluttery
gray not in color but feeling
caught almost but calmly tacking
bending sour after the fact
someone who stalls
bloom-fed mules paint-blind rabbits
your anchors sweat my lidding
like organ music and frequent showers
mouth in tatters
carved unsure and sweet
notes the gnat obliquely
beside dawn through trees’
hoes and buckles hung with arching
pageant-hound grabbits
landslidish heroics
caught almost but warmly jacking
chiming as moonsore chiclets
calyxes of dentistry
what we’ve created apparently here we
crepes of tear-wings
pageant-round habits
my organ music and frequent showers
answers
your rancors whet my bidding
broom-fled mule taint-tried rabbits
its tin ribs again
minnows guys with lightbright teeth
if icicles when asked not in color but feeling
smiles
so simple stalls against your nape so often
singeing, mothing between us

Boy do I believe you.
a wary arrow everyone is playing an angle I could never apologize for
a bad smell becoming even worse when you realize molecules
Black
using the orgasm lever the arm is an extension of the brain
out of his posing speedo
where petals boxcar your eyelids a fly scrubs its hindlegs tripodic
the piglets scrutiny her breasts deliberate swollen gestures
the architecture of which no one knows
and knuckles where unrequited becomes
a place, it’s a lifestyle.
When I brought you a lemon you claimed
you ain’t never again a cuke
the soft brown dying your eyes create in me twinge suckling beginnings of a
fall
how steep embodies the milk
I feel along me like brushgrass. I see that you are doing well in your lessons.
crack together. It’s not
to collect your hearts
penis skewing hard orange nosing
your anchors sweat my lidding
spine-fed scraps of earwig toes
of water waiting sunglasses and gin
projection memory is on a track she eats
her way slowly you never
told me much about marriage
mice warm up cages for we can make on another
green apples I don’t wish were red
it hurt to transluce. Track down sundial language
encaustic light.

(the seconds threaten from the beaches of your eyes)
(back the sound staggers water’s strange machine
along unkempt’s preen of sleep lay flute-drawn)
(chocolate cake and cigarettes in no particular order
crown down at the lip of the underground well)
(You are brave
druff, but I hunt to eat your whips.)
(pearls whisk heat from the skin)
(how steep
Light Yellow)
(You are the bell I think we should)
(One bodybuilding magazine showed a man)
(quietly in a wash a hungry eclipse)
(in the morning plenty of it creates a long wire)
(bunnies that glow in the dark)
(a chrysalis never watered. Pollen’s brisk)

because of the prophecy
a giant seacastle in the distance, so white
we can only fall into too pale skin
did knowledge get stuck in a man’s throat
mice the way their small bladders would empty white snaps later
and life smells skewed
the way I can still smell isofluorane from when I had to cervically dislocate
mothless light. If they’re pebbles
One question, two answers.
even the sun has trouble hitting it.
with the smell of fermentation budding alcoholism
Red
is the ribbon my body pulls from you
One: sodium
Two: salt and vinegar on a sore
tongue. The Red buds feel true.
you are yellow
in the mouse facility
what just sent ribbons of pain into me
a seashell amplifies feet having never dropped their trope
only once let’s play our zwischens again let’s
changing their clovers shone man at me
Pink
open shops together
why chance once you’re pickled
latches smashed quick and unpredictable upon me
packed tight in your iris your brown eyes that
is your mind a host of friends a honey toast milk almond condition
the brass bold light
Navy Blue
You are the full wax yellow
leaving blown glass remarks
the seconds threaten
A narcotic,
Light Pink
White

(“Last winter the birds dropped frozen colorblind”)
(sharp Adam’s apples may have been tempted)
(bridges I ruined)
(and not pimiento?)
(and the fruiting body unfolds I woke my pillow)
(and life smells skewed my pulse)
(phosphate, mostly)
(Three dry martinis. Spit pimiento
melts a gash in the ice outside. Drown)
(my callous is growing worried
I rush hours to taste the pears of your eyes)
(clumsy whiskey sloshes at me I was
less than one life span long magenta can only be magenta)
(and it could never have happened had any of us ever been aware
of that we were not so caught so as not to collect your hearts)
(a class eight times the regular number
dice dropped multiple times for what reason)
(when I fell dawn through trees in love
stampeded against tongues of lather was snow)
(I would make wax paper puppets)
(You are yellow
and studying to be sex object.)
(the kiss of Sundays like soap
in the mouth the good idea turns bad and foams)

or origami necklaces do you think
warm oatmeal
bread warmer basket
against a swift window a trickle
but here’s your chance to blind
the mosquitoes your friar the brazen
crepes of wing rung with arching
terror I ripe a seeding awful
because of the prophecy
unkempt’s tripling leap tripodic
my mouthnose complex
I get wanting to clover your eyelids
Orange
are you going into your body short and frothy
time created here by opening and closing every auditorium door
a marigold river which tries
as a temper. Bees make their own.
which you call windmills
your letters in my skin like miracles
many ellipse
tongues of lather
anything grabbing at praise
it was both the flapping paper the brown

(grief ever leaves or does it just forget
itself and then remember water on a beach even in this running
I know myself against your dirty trail
a molten poison
none of us touched even)
(both treble and windy gimlet
with seasoning the head is a neck of crows three
if human fourteen if a giant
your stunning kingdom by the sea
salt like a fist which anyone could have written)
(engines cleaning it had been so long my cum
the yellow of snot I ejaculated
in your moisturizer your face in mine
a corset of tongues eliding
prick consent to me
a ceiling whistles recognition taut a transit
so long anticipated to cite the peacock
it could taste feathergreen thrumping)
(quietly and I could
happen on a fly
on its hindlegs, lover are you
the lamb along
umkempt’s tripling)
(its slice against the night
which freezes
the water many of us centered
our bodies communing a bridge a kiss
a hiss or just after
Dark Chocolate Brown
a hiss or just after I thrash
with caffeine and sunburn. I am thin)
(Light Purple
which you call windmills and beautiful napes of those
deprived of sleep pennies and nickels and chapter books
have you ever thought that someone looked like you and wondered
sadly if in a blackout you made pornography
everything through hiccups)
(Hot Pink
many ellipse water’s strange machine
along flute-drawn sleep
another gray greening
rivers away from being silent together
on another wash stampeded against)
(water accompanies us in and out
nothing spearmint like life
carries out lust
or imagination I tell you
it was both
Brown)


Second Iteration

Tripodic
all those kitchenettes stuck in her hair
that the future and the present

gray not in color but feeling the rasp
soaking in vinegar a bin of winks all fluttery
we can only fall into too pale skin
did knowledge get stuck in a man’s throat
Black
using the orgasm lever the arm is an extension of the brain
bread warmer basket
against a swift window a trickle
(all the swatted images all the debonair
sprouts we collided a short tender
I hid like a milk tight snake in the morning
which has specifically parted as if
clipped by by paired barettes
The friar realized his error,)
(brambles against your nape so often
my smile your black jaw installed along my cheek
wearing my acne a salute a date that’s been)
(sharp Adam’s apples may have been tempted)
(the seconds threaten from the beaches of your eyes)
(both treble and windy gimlet
with seasoning the head is a neck of crows three
if human fourteen if a giant
your stunning kingdom by the sea
salt like a fist which anyone could have written)

White
Pink Puffy
Peach
Light Pink
car. Smut memory this doesn’t have to be
I appropriate 2 gray cats 4 crying hinds. Here we cast up, lips together,
my pulse a cup a pointer apologize remember the best way
a seashell’s amps a map
a garage door kick sour mouths
tense would conglomerate only in the past, only by way
all the exercises stand stanchion still and silently
A narcotic,
your rancors whet my bidding
broom-fled mule taint-tried rabbits
I ate unashamed the minnows
(Boy do I believe you
Lime Green)
(said in a circular fashion
constant let it stand
“Nice cool day to be on the hill, isn’t it?”
Something tight, bitchy and twisted I appropriate,)
(of movement the red jay tramples
your skin
having seen the night grim ace)
(of the tire swing that sold itself short when it really wanted to find out where
its predecessors were. Don’t they brilliant
the air with sails, don’t they through)
(terror I whisper)
(trick a not)

latches smashed quick and unpredictable upon me
packed tight in your iris your brown eyes that
ending sour after the fact
open shops together take language
why chance once you’re pickled
a commitment on the body the head
singeing, mothing between us
leaving blown glass remarks
the seconds threaten
We’re having a fundraiser on Friday, October store.
Don’t be coy I know you have one Thank you
it had been so long my cum the yellow of snot I ejaculated in your
stir whirls and raisinettes left
I keep them closed though wrens try to wrench them
teeth apart sex? spiritual compilation. It can be pointed. I am a wheelbarrow
so simple stalls against your nape so often
it hurt to transluce. Track down sundial language
encaustic light.
Navy Blue
You are the full wax yellow
moisturizer your face in an embrace with mine our corseted mouths and
our centaur dries
her way slowly you never
told me much about marriage
my organ music and frequent showers
answers
(when I fell dawn through trees in love
stampeded against tongues of lather was snow)
(a class eight times the regular number
dice dropped multiple times for what reason)
(the kiss of Sundays like soap
in the mouth the good idea turns bad and foams)
(John Montana’s literary magazine was wondering if you’d like to donate
a gift certificate to fact. Also, I’m wondering if I can put up a poster for the
even in your This is a Raffle
corner of the store)
(under the hinges of movie theatres
and many of us had sticky feet
to trip up stairs and our lovers’ bodies
flapping frequently against my sense of design
the shelf it’s simply shoved against
the wall of desire, I’m stuck here wriggles of wine trial my lips)
(a chrysalis never watered. Pollen’s brisk)
(You are yellow
and studying to be a sex object.)
(tongues eliding stickly prick
pieces that contain rigid objects
in season, I sling your drift
when the characters are leather)
(or doors the color of your jaw installed along my cheek
wearing me like icewater to let in the most)

mothless light. If they’re pebbles
One question, two answers.
recoils crowding around me like lit pages I stain so healthily
when all the characters are leathering
beside dawn through trees’
hoes and buckles hung with arching
color pickling
these branches aren’t for securing a dam
a place, it’s a lifestyle.
When I brought you a lemon you claimed
Anne Carson’s influence
nothing like a houseboy
because of the prophecy
(and not pimiento?)
(I rachet. Down the busy street I take my body I choose to
arouse my body sympathetic love a drippler dripping
pieces that pass first test and contain rigid objects
of spring, I sling into your season, I five-petal you to drift)
(nightmarish heroics)
(in German is Blutenstaub
I think of how dust perfumes
register timpani tongues)
(You are brave
druff, but I hunt to eat your whips.)
(on and on and on my pulse.
You remember the best way to get a hold of me is by pouring gunk in my
hair isn’t that right
My pulse is)

Water’s strange machine
Tongues of lather
sort and pick. There would be so many tire swings
caught almost but warmly jacking
chiming as moonsore chiclets
of water waiting sunglasses and gin
projection memory is on a track she eats
is your mind a host of friends a honey toast milk almond condition
the brass bold light
I feel along me like brushgrass. I see that you are doing well in your lessons.
crack together. It’s not
wet cane and snowmelt
(Along flute-drawn sleep
Another gray greening
Rivers away from being silent together
On another wash stampeded against aim)
(a seeded mangy ellipse)
(in the morning plenty of it creates a long wire)
(I would make wax paper puppets)
(You are the bell I think we should)

its tin ribs again
minnows guys with lightbright teeth
yet tight against my skull I can feel their influence.
a bin of winks all fluttery
of organ music and frequent showers
mascara, it was a poultice and
a wary arrow everyone is playing an angle I could never apologize for
a bad smell becoming even worse when you realize molecules
I din’t believe um I sat right now on my tush tush and crahed.
tho he never know it my love is so embarrassing my diary even
mice the way their small bladders would empty white snaps later
and life smells skewed
or origami necklaces do you think
warm oatmeal
(us and me and memory
words bedded)
(You are a cup and a rigid sinner
my acne a salute
ah would you date
someone soaking in vinegar)
(wearing me like icewater to let in most
lowest left hand influence. You are milks that haven’t been invented darling
she was ugly but it happened
that it was only that she had Cheezits
smeared along her eyelids like a bitch)
(I sat right down dead drunk small cold and absolutely broke
and crahed. Pineapples makin out cain’t help me I feel a sound
snap my knee my leg my crashdown crawfish applicate juices.
I sat down snap down my hearing wasted on badding news
my phone is crying drown tears and I cain’t believe it won’t
believe because believe it or not Mississippi was my love)
(bridges I ruined)
(grief ever leaves or does it just forget
itself and then remember water on a beach even in this running
I know myself against your dirty trail
a molten poison
none of us touched even)

your scentway dries
a crowd. I know spinning enough
if icicles when asked not of color but feeling
smiles
are going into your body short and frothy
time created here by opening and closing every auditorium door
because of the prophecy
a giant seacastle in the distance, so white
out of his posing speedo
where petals boxcar your eyelids a fly scrubs its hindlegs tripodic
be questioning my own motives, sent through the future
were you wrapping your voice in creams
backsongs when I scarred many of us
to that maple tree, allowance, little
(articulated a hard on pink
jacks advertising themselves as red
as if to escape its ribs, flexible,
it chases me from inside)
(then grasp
the brambles mending their
mouths in which we pour)
(“Last winter the birds dropped frozen colorblind”)
(back the sound staggers water’s strange machine
along unkempt’s preen of sleep flute-drawn)
(all my nerves, decay of the boyfriend, other effluvia
Tell the senders no matter how rough the prerogative
we’ll always survive, our rubber hammers
laminate. They toke the wind. If it could come on
in the way a hubby boo boo increases ad infinitum)
(were you wrapping your voices in creams.
Earth is the only eye in a larger scheme
3 gay men, ages 38, 27 and 23, gather to write an imaginary poem:
The schoolyard isn’t very green compared)

like icewater to moat
if Ted ever comes by with a fork
gray not in color but feeling.
caught almost but calmly tacking
in a bed of gutter
under glass stallions
I get wanting to clover your eyelids
Orange
even the sun has trouble hitting it.
with the smell of fermentation budding alcoholism
Boy do I believe you.
Poetry: It’s an auction off
not for us yet tight against my skull I can feel is nothing
(low left hand influence. You are milks that haven’t been invented darling
take my left hand and influence me into those milkbrown eggs
influence the darning eggs I only kept in the hopes that you’d be back
don’t I see you there a few hours later?)
(Mooring
machining at boon-poor triplets
a needed hungry eclipse)
(the snake reflective surface
of the dress’s dance
of little spheres set to sing)
(quietly and I could
happen on a fly
on its hindlegs, lover are you
the lamb along
unkempt’s tripling)
(and the fruiting body unfolds I woke my pillow)
(It chases me from inside
Anne Carson’s flowers’ pulse.
You may influence
lowest left hand influence. You are milks that haven’t been invented darling)

Red
is the ribbon my body pulls from you
pageant-hound grabbits
landslidish heroines
your mouth moved
a quince tree whistles
to get a hold of me is by pouring gunk in my.
It chases me from inside
the piglets scrutiny her breasts deliberate swollen gestures
the architecture of which no one knows
but here’s your chance to blind
the mosquitoes the friar the brazen
brilliant
laminate the wind
(and life smells skewed my pulse)
(I spin myself
scraps of earwig
toes and knuckles rung with marching)
(grandstands up on my skin
the pollen in mind
the blood frees
into your body the serial
cloth angels’ fashions draw
the silver sing of your back)
(A room hair isn’t that right I am
fingered and in it so memorize.
A pink wart beneath a houseboy and a rigid sinner on
and on and on my knuckles their purple
they will not)
(chocolate cake and cigarettes in no particular order
crown down at the lip of the underground well)
(with sails
many tires
swing their speak against the playground
then stood stanchion still against my motives)

I ate unashamed the minnows
bending sour after the fact
someone who stalls
is a neck of crows how many depends on
shin brackets asleep
it does not memorize.
and in it so many milks milks that haven’t been invented darling not for us
the way I can still smell isofluorane from when I had to cervically dislocate
ever been aware of what we were saying unless it was around someone we
its hindlegs tripodic
crepes of wing rung with arching
terror I ripe a seeding awful
your anchors sweat my lidding
spine-fed scraps of earwig toes
(simple we both answer
when asked would you date)
(how many of those are willing to sprint
among giants windows
pheasants chill to feel warm after
a ceiling so long anticipated
I plucked from my nails)
(A pink wart beneath my lowest
left hand pointer finger knuckle.
A room of purple and white flowers.
They will not apologize.)
(loved and we remembered it not so caught almost but calmly jacking much
because we said it but because he was there when we did to collect your
hearts back the sound staggers water’s strange machine along unkempt’s
preen of sleep lay flute-drawn where petals boxcar your eyelids a fly scrubs)
(quietly in a wash a hungry eclipse)

fall
how steep embodies the milk
your anchors sweat my lidding quietly in a wash a hungry eclipse spinning
terror I wipe a seeding awful many ellipse
speaking their speak against the cold playground. I would
One: sodium
Two: salt and vinegar on a sore
unkempt’s tripling leap tripodic
my mouthnose complex
smiles
I’m affliction.
to collect your hearts
penis skewing hard orange nosing
(how steep
Light Yellow)
(scraps of earwig toes and knuckles where unrequited becomes crepes of
wing rung with arching)
(phosphate, mostly)
(engines cleaning it had been so long my cum
the yellow of snot I ejaculated
in your moisturizer your face in with mine
a corset of mouths and tongues eliding stickity
prick consents to me
a ceiling whistles recognition taut a transit
so long anticipated to cite the peacock
it could taste feathergreen thrumping)
(mouth in tatters
away from customary crowns.
University of Myers’s local businesses. I can reach me at 717 576 5087 or
john1.myers@umontana.edu.)
(One bodybuilder magazine showed a man)

a cotillion stem
I ask myself about stairs, especially
like organ music and frequent showers
mouth in tatters
anything grabbing at praise
it was both the flapping paper the brown
it was a heroin chic the opposite
fairground and she really was
the friar realizing his error that it was only that she had hid
tongue. The Red buds feel true.
you are yellow
bloom-fed mules paint-blind rabbits
(out
wrens try to work on
the way a house is swift
houses birds,
the shelf it’s simply slice against)
(or doors the color of icewater to let in the most
icicles behind which we pour
miles of mending its)
(water accompanies us in and out
nothing spearmint like life
carries out lust
or imagination I tell you
it was both
Brown)
(of took and it created for me, you
solitude oh there it was it was
pretty please pie it was dunk a mother)
(Three dry martinis. Spit pimiento
melts a gash in the ice outside. Drown)
(pick a knot
error I whisker)

I get wanting to clover your eyelids
clovers shone man at me and it could never have happened had any of us
having been
You are a cup and a rigid sinner
I ask my mirror reflection if we can’t make
in the mouse facility
what just sent ribbons of pain into me
and knuckles where unrequited becomes
many ellipse
tongues of lather
Carved unsure and sweet
notes the gnat obliquely
(Quietly and I could happen
On a fly on its hindlegs
Lover are you the lamb
Along unkempt’s leap
when I fell dawn through the trees in love it stampeded against tongues of lather
was snow packed tight in your iris your brown eyes that changing their)
(an outsider and insider as through a sieve
Violet is not a color (you can hide
behind) the way peach is, the way language is
a reptile
they will not)
(my callous is growing worried
I rush hours to taste the pears of your eyes)
(Hot Pink
many ellipse water’s strange machine
along flute-drawn sleep
another gray greening
rivers away from being silent together
on another wash stampeded against)
(the shore describes itself)

like a milk tight snake in the morning her tenderness
they tole me Arkansas II and Mississippi and you know what
calyxes of dentistry
what we’ve created apparently here we
like aversion to stockings
when I scarred the backsongs we were meant to show
against gratis perfumes whirl
which you call windmills
your letters in my skin like miracles
changing their clovers shone man at me
Pink
you ain’t never again a cuke
the soft brown dying your eyes create in my twinge suckling beginnings of a
(and now with high moon shaking she slacked eyelids like mint
kitchenettes and lost
Arkansas and Miss Sue both tole me Mississippi
is sleeping with Arkansas II believe it or not)
(you taught me to love
my dead hunger.
But had error ever been)
(at the bugle festival in a certain morning barn, door
open to the wings of sun and wingspun
birds a rotation of body and shirked sand many of us)
(Light Purple
which you call windmills the beautiful napes of those
deprived of sleep pennies and nickels and chapter books
have you ever thought that someone looked like you and wondered
sadly if in a blackout you made pornography
everything through hiccups)
(and it could never have happened had any of us ever been aware
of that we were not so caught so as not to collect your hearts)
(pearls whisk heat from the skin)

articulate hard tines
of organ music and frequent showers
swift windows and the marigold river that junctures the water cooler.
bugling, “We were meant to show young perfumes’ lids’
crepes of tear-wings
pageant-round habits
of you last night when a spoonful filled my apartment
mice warm up cages for we can make one another
green apples I don’t wish were red
a marigold river which tries
as a temper. Bees make their own.
a seashell amplifies feet having never dropped their trope
only once let’s play our zwischens again let’s
(tithing themselves
as if to escape the ribs of
chasing me from inside
a spinning. Shroud, I know nougat
I ate unashamed the minnows
of you last night when a spoonful filled my apartment)
(Your pick ground raisins
change color when they’re out
in a certain a.m. body,
a felt wing left sunning up a barn or jelly sandwich club)
(I spine myself)
(bunnies that glow in the dark)
(its slice against the night
which freezes
the water many of us centered
our bodies communing a bridge a kiss
a hiss or just after
Dark Chocolate Brown
a hiss or just after I thrash
with caffeine and sunburn. I am thin)
(clumsy whisky sloshes at me I was
less than one life span long magenta can only be magenta)

Third Iteration

your rancors whet my bidding
terror I whisper
trick a not
broom-fled mule taint-tried rabbits

Pink Puffy
Boy do I believe you
Lime Green
Peach

Navy Blue
You are yellow
and studying to be a sex object.
You are the full wax yellow

fall
how steep
Light Yellow
how steep embodies the milk

tongue. The Red buds feel true.
Three dry martinis. Spit pimiento
melts a gash in the ice outside. Drown
you are yellow

bending sour after the fact
simple we both answer
when asked would you date
someone who stalls

out of his posing speedo
back the sound staggers water’s strange machine
along unkempt’s preen of sleep lay flute-drawn
where petals boxcar your eyelids a fly scrubs its hindlegs tripodic

leaving blown glass remarks
the kiss of Sundays like soap
in the mouth the good idea turns bad and foams
the seconds threaten

a place, it’s a lifestyle.
You are brave
druff, but I hunt to eat your whips.
When I brought you a lemon you claimed

latches smashed quick and unpredictable upon me
when I fell dawn through trees in love
stampeded against tongues of lather was snow
packed tight in your iris your brown eyes that

the piglets scrutiny her breasts deliberate swollen gestures
chocolate cake and cigarettes in no particular order
crown down at the lip of the underground well
the architecture of which no one knows

changing their clovers shone man at me
and it could never have happened had any of us ever been aware
of that we were not so caught so as not to collect your hearts
Pink

in the mouse facility
my callous is growing worried
I rush hours to taste the pears of your eyes
what just sent ribbons of pain into me

your anchors sweat my lidding quietly in a wash a hungry eclipse spinning
scraps of earwig toes and knuckles where unrequited becomes crepes of
wing rung with arching
terror I wipe a seeding awful many ellipse

its tin ribs again
us and me and memory
words bedded
minnows guys with lightbright teeth

open shops together
a class eight times the regular number
dice dropped multiple times for what reason
why chance once you’re pickled

my organ music and frequent showers
or doors the color of your jaw installed along my cheek
wearing me like icewater to let in the most
answers

bloom-fed mules paint-blind rabbits
pick a knot
error I whisker
your anchors sweat my lidding

a seashell amplifies feet having never dropped their trope
clumsy whisky sloshes at me I was
less than one life span long magenta can only be magenta
only one let’s play our zwischens again lets’

but here’s your chance to blind
the mosquitoes your friar the brazen

crepes of wing rung arching
terror I ripe a seeding awful

a wary arrow everyone is playing an angle I could never apologize for
a bad smell becoming even worse when you realize molecules

are going into your body short and frothy
time created here by opening and closing every auditorium door

her way slowly you never
told me much about marriage

Carved unsure and sweet
the shore describes itself
notes the gnat obliquely

crepes of tear-wings
I spine myself
pageant-round habits

to collect your hearts
One body-building magazine showed a man
penis skewing hard orange nosing

caught almost but warmly jacking
a seeded mangy ellipse
chiming as moonsore chiclets

Black
the seconds threaten from the beaches of your eyes
using the orgasm lever the arm is an extension of the brain

mice warm up cages for we can make one another
bunnies that glow in the dark
green apples I don’t wish were red

beside dawn through trees’
nightmarish heroics
hoes and buckles hung with arching

is your mind a host of friends a honey toast milk almond condition
I would make wax paper puppets
the brass bold light

it hurt to transluce. Track down sundial language
a chrysalis never watered. Pollen’s brisk
encaustic light.

mothless light. If they’re pebbles
and not pimiento?
One question, two answers.

we can only fall into too pale skin
sharp Adam’s apples may have been tempted
did knowledge get stuck in a man’s throat

because of the prophecy
“Last winter the birds dropped frozen colorblind”
a giant seacastle in the distance, so white

you ain’t never again a cuke
pearls whisk heat from the skin
the soft brown dying your eyes create in me twinge suckling beginnings of a

Red
and life smells skewed my pulse
is the ribbon my body pulls from you

your anchors sweat my lidding
quietly in a wash a hungry eclipse
spine-fed scraps of earwig toes

I feel along me like brushgrass. I see that you are doing well in your lessons.
You are the bell I think we should
crack together. It’s not

mice the way their small bladders would empty white snaps later
bridges I ruined
and life smells skewed

of water waiting sunglasses and gin
in the morning plenty of it creates a long wire
projection memory is on a track she eats

One: sodium
phosphate, mostly.
Two: salt and vinegar on a sore

even the sun has trouble hitting it.
and the fruiting body unfolds I woke my pillow
with the smell of fermentation budding alcoholism

wet cane and snowmelt

singeing, mothing between us

it had been so long my cum the yellow of snot I ejaculated in your

ending sour after the fact

I ask my mirror reflection if we can’t make

Light Pink

Tripodic

White

because of the prophecy

I ate unashamed the minnows

speaking their speak against the cold playground. I would

sort and pick. There would be so many tire swings

and knuckles where unrequited becomes

a commitment on the body the head

so simple stalls against your nape so often

A narcotic,

of you last night when a spoonful filled my apartment

Boy do I believe you.

the way I can still smell isofluorane from when I had to cervically dislocate

the friar realizing his error that it was only that she had hid

my pulse a cup a pointer apologize remember the best way

teeth apart sex? spiritual compilation. It can be pointed. I am a wheelbarrow

like aversion to stockings


we’ll always survive, our rubber hammers
smeared along her eyelids like a bitch
of little spheres set to sing
of the dress’s dance
Along flute-drawn sleep
mouths in which we pour
the brambles mending their
if icicles when asked not of color but feeling
snap my knee my leg my crashdown crawfish applicate juices.
Poetry: It’s an auction off
the lamb along
mascara, it was a poultice and
wearing me like icewater to let in most
quietly and I could
arouse my body sympathetic love a drippler dripping
a crowd. I know spinning enough
under glass stallions
You may influence

low left hand affluence. You are milks that haven’t been invented darling
I din’t believe um I sat right now on my tush tush and crahed.
were you wrapping your voices in creams.
not for us yet tight against my skull I can feel is nothing
on its hindlegs, lover are you
unkempt’s tripling
like icewater to moat
It chases me from inside
caught almost but calmly tacking
pieces that first test and contain rigid objects
don’t I see you there a few hours later?
if Ted ever comes by with a fork
as if to escape its ribs, flexible,
flapping frequently against my sense of design
under the hinges of movie theaters
to trip up stairs and our lovers’ bodies
and many of us had sticky feet
I rachet. Down the busy street I take my body I choose to
laminate. They toke the wind. If if could come on
in the way a hubby boo boo increases ad infinitum
tense would conglomerate only in the past, only by way
of organ music and frequent showers
Mooring
Tongues of lather
these branches aren’t for securing a dam
On another wash stampeded against aim
our centaur dries
in a bed of gutter
Earth is the only eye in a larger scheme
in season, I sling your drift
to that maple tree, allowance, little
pieces that contain rigid objects
influence the darning eggs I only kept in the hopes that you’d be back

Water’s strange machine
it chases me from inside
the wall of desire, I’m stuck here wriggles of wine trial my lips
your scentway dries
Anne Carson’s flowers’ pulse.
I keep them closed though wrens try to wrench them
Rivers away from being silent together
Orange
of movement the red jay tramples
its predecessors were. Don’t they brilliant
then grasp
all my nerves, decay of the boyfriend, other effluvia
register timpani tongues
none us touched even
lowest left hand influence. You are milks that haven’t been invented darling
in German is Blutenstaub
I sat down snap down my hearing wasted on badding news
or origami necklaces do you think
she was ugly but it happened
tongues eliding stickly prick
gray not in color but feeling.

the shelf it’s simply shoved against
the air with sails, don’t they through
your skin
color pickling
Another gray greening
having seen the night grim ace
moisturizer your face in an embrace with mine our corseted mouths and
jacks advertising themselves as red
I get wanting to clover your eyelids
of spring, I sling into your season, I five-petal you to drift
stir whorls and raisinettes left
when the characters are leathering
machining at boon-poor triplets
a seashell’s amps a map
recoils crowding around me like lit pages I stain so healthily
that it was only that she had Cheezits
Tell the senders no matter how rough the prerogative
my phone is crying drown tears and I cain’t believe it won’t
believe because believe it or not Mississippi was my love
a needed hungry eclipse
were you wrapping your voice in creams
lowest left hand influence. You are milks that haven’t been invented darling
a garage door kick sour mouths
tho he never know it my love is so embarrassing my diary even
I sat down dead drunk small cold and absolutely broke
when are the characters leather
the snake reflective surface
grief ever leaves or does it just forget

You remember the best way to get a hold of me is by pouring gunk in my
smiles
grandstands up on my skin
ah would you date
someone soaking in vinegar
the pollen in mind
and crahed. Pineapples makin out cain’t help me feel a sound
on and on and on my pulse.
cloth angels’ fashions draw
a bin of winks all fluttery
your mouth moved
many tires
then stood stanchion still against my motives
swing their speak against the playground
yet tight against my skull I can feel their influence.
my acne a salute
laminate the wind
with sails
the silver sing of your back
a molten poison
brilliant
the blood frees
into your body the serial
which has specifically parted as if
that the future and present
take my left hand and influence me into those milkbrown eggs
warm oatmeal
My pulse is
nothing like a houseboy

You are a cup and a rigid sinner
of the tire swing that sold itself short when it really wanted to find out where
John Montana’s literary magazine was wondering if you’d like to donate
Anne Carson’s influence
We’re having a fundraiser on Friday, October store.
The schoolyard isn’t very green compared
3 gay men, ages 38, 27 and 23, gather to write an imaginary poem:
I know myself against your dirty trail
happen on a fly
I think of dust how perfumes
a quince tree whistles
itself and then remember water on a beach even in this running
clipped by paired barettes
be questioning my own motives, sent through the future
articulated a hard on pink
hair isn’t that right
The friar realized his error,
all the exercises stand stanchion still and silently
backsongs when I scarred many of us

a hiss or just after I thrash
open to the wings of sun and wingspun
solitude oh there it was it was
a hiss or just after
a cotillion stem
carries out lust
at the bugle festival in a certain morning barn, door
having been
soaking in vinegar a bin of winks all fluttery
wrens try to work on
salt like a fist which anyone could have written
your stunning kingdom by the sea

when I scarred the backsongs we were meant to show
it was a heroin chic the opposite
Violet is not a color you can hide
my smile your black jaw installed along my cheek
our bodies communing a bridge a kiss
I spin myself
both treble and windy gimlet
is a neck of crows how many depends on
Something tight, bitchy and twisted I appropriate,
how many of those are willing to sprint
water accompanies us in and out
all those kitchenettes stuck in her hair

I ask myself about stairs, especially
behind the way peach is, the way language is
scraps of earwig
I hid like a milk tight snake in the morning
against a swift window a trickle
which freezes
its slice against the night
pheasants chill to feel warm after
a marigold river which tries
all the swatted images all the debonair
toes and knuckles rung with marching
it does not memorize.

the shelf it’s simply sliced against
the way a house is swift
the water many of us centered
houses birds,
anything grabbing at praise
pageant-hound grabbits
an outsider and insider as through a sieve
brambles against your nape so often
A pink wart beneath my lowest
sprouts we collided a short tender
constant let it stand
of took and it created for me, you
if human fourteen if a giant
bread warmer basket
among giants windows

A room of purple and white flowers.
They will not apologize.
and in it so many milks milks that haven’t been invented darling not for us
pretty please pie it was dunk a mother
fairground and she really was
a ceiling so long anticipated
I plucked from my nails
shin brackets asleep
calyxes of dentistry
you taught me to love
my dead hunger.
nothing spearmint like life
But had error ever been
what we’ve created apparently here we
said in a circular fashion
birds a rotation of body and shirked sand many of us
against gratis perfumes whirl
with caffeine and sunburn. I am thin
as a tempter. Bees make their own.
or imagination I tell you
it was both
Brown
it was both the flapping paper the brown
gray not in color but feeling the rasp
a reptile
they will not
You are a cup and a rigid sinner

ever been aware of what we were saying unless it was around someone we
loved and we remembered it not so caught almost but calmly jacking much
because we said it but because he was there when we did to collect your
hearts back the sound staggers water’s strange machine along unkempt’s
preen of sleep lay flute-drawn where petals boxcar your eyelids a fly scrubs
its hindlegs tripodic
with seasoning the head is a neck of crows three
articulate hard tines
tithing themselves
as if to escape ribs of
chasing me from inside
a spinning. Shroud, I know nougat
I ate unashamed the minnows
of you last night when a spoonful filled my apartment
of organ music and frequent showers
wearing my acne a salute a date that’s been
a gift certificate to fact. Also, I’m wondering if I can put up a poster for the
event in your This is a Raffle
corner of the store
Don’t be coy I know you have one Thank you
Dark Chocolate Brown
like a milk tight snake in the morning her tenderness
and now with high moon shaking she slacked eyelids like mint
kitchenettes and lost
Arkansas and Miss Sue both tole me Mississippi
is sleeping with Arkansas II believe it or not
they tole me Arkansas II and Mississippi and you know what
I appropriate 2 gray cats 4 crying hinds. Here we cast up, lips together,
to get a hold of me is by pouring gunk in my.
A room hair isn’t that right I am
fingered and in it so memorize.
A pink wart beneath a houseboy and a rigid sinner on
and on and on my knuckles their purple
they will not
It chases me from inside
out
which you call windmills
Light Purple
which you call windmills the beautiful napes of those
deprived of sleep pennies and nickels and chapter books
have you ever thought that someone looked like you and wondered
sadly if in a blackout you made pornography
everything through hiccups
your letters in my skin like miracles
left hand pointer finger knuckle.
many ellipse
Hot Pink
many ellipse water’s strange machine
along flute-drawn sleep
another gray greening
rivers away from being silent together
on another wash stampeded against
tongues of lather
“Nice cool day to be on the hill, isn’t it?”
I get wanting to clover your eyelids
Quietly and I could happen
On a fly on its hindlegs
Lover are you the lamb
Along unkempt’s leap
when I fell dawn through trees in love it stampeded against tongues of lather
was snow packed tight in your iris your brown eyes that changing their
clovers shone man at me and it could never have happened had any of us
landslidish heroines
swift windows and the marigold river that junctures the water cooler.
Your pick ground raisins
change color when they’re out
in a certain a.m. body,
a felt wing left sunning up a barn or jelly sandwich club
bugling, “We were meant to show young perfumes’ lids’
car. Smut memory this doesn’t have to be
like organ music and frequent showers
or doors the color of icewater to let in the most
icicles behind which we pour
miles of mending its
mouth in tatters
unkempt’s tripling leap tripodic
engines cleaning it had been so long my cum
the yellow of snot I ejaculated
in your moisturizer your face in with mine
a corset of mouths and tongues eliding stickity
prick consents to me
a ceiling whistles recognition taut transit
so long anticipated to cite the peacock
it could taste feathergreen thrumping
my mouthnose complex
smiles
mouth in tatters
away from customary crowns.
University of Myers’s local businesses. I can reach me at 717 576 5087 or
john1.myers@umontana.edu.
I’m affliction.

why are you going to move in with me if you're allergic


at the edge not of sleep or of consciousness but of awareness


the wealth of scars


from an Ohio upbringing


we can only fall into too pale skin


the sweet tea the sneezes logistics we have been privy to


sharp Adam's apples we may have been tempted


did knowledge get stuck in a man's throat


and do I want a bit


my weather vane of trying


on a campus we pour pomegranate juice on all the floors it is expensive rhythmically


silver spartan why would you capsize there


is your mind a host of friends a honey toast milk almond condition


as if I am a therapist I'm not I'm not even a volunteer anywhere


writing smaller doesn't make it any less true, any less said


should we [have to] justify love


I see dead mice every day at my current job I put them into a little box with isofluorane and once they are anaesthetized cervically dislocate them their bladders relax


forget to ignore everything


I would make wax paper puppets


my cats would still be unashamed when they farted


the brass bold light


the coldness of my left hand when I write it lumps there all surface area

mouth feels rotting sanguinous


in the mouse facility my callous is growing
so worried


I found a piece of the apple
poem


at rush hour I taste the pears of your eyes


an open eye
that just sent ribbons of pain into me


how people get so divorced telling strangers about the infidelity


was thinking of calling Dan and when I first got sober in Harrisburg I used to call him Hot Dan when talking to my sponsor about him


the embryos which were overfixed and now are not staining


the dead silent craft of that 3-layer rich chocolate cheesecake


my occasion will be dessert and I will describe it in taxonomic detail


peanut butter lips kiss the rim of the glass leaving blown glass remarks


a kiss of Sundays


in the closet self-loathing fearful not even an actor art student with a details mind


the drunk gay years lasting


my best friends throwing their cut-up lives at me as if I had any intention


even today it teases my brain

hearing so much about Philly lately


whose clothes are those and whose laxatives splattered all over the toilet


when you are thin you realize how little that has to do with anything


the house looks better coming from the left than it does coming from the right


like soap in the mouth the good idea turns bad and foams


the way language is to me with all the threads around it


yet cut off and all knitting


guy in green shirt to whom style is obviously not a priority


to the grackles blank branches


the girlish laugh stressed out over finals


textured reproductive relable unspecified sky


I have now ten more minutes and no violins to either play or carry


I broke no promises today


even promises to myself today about milk and sugar remain intact


what will people buy me if they think I am a graham cracker?


fucking frosting


off my trim little body


I can crave to myself


I don't like the smell of peanut butter when I'm full


or the sight of a bright March light on my morning cat

Notebook 9

telling people the Jeff story as if he were an enemy


the seconds threaten


I may never use the sperm they produce


from the beaches of your eyes


the arm is an extension of the brain


using the orgasm lever


light on the light light arm


the baby piglets are grunting and walking the baby humans are kidnapped and helpless they can't even feed themselves unless mom holds them up the scrutiny of her breasts the deliberate swollen gestures


no hump de dump about it


there are no ghosts only miracles of living and breathing


fuschia the fruit the flower the fragrance the ideal no watermelon is ever as good as the one in your mind


could take this hour to you and say here this is my hour and what did you do with yours


footsteps independently productive on my floor painted with glass brick and sand


don't shake that hallway


chocolate cake and cigarettes in no particular order the smell of fart mixed with potato chips


crown down at the top of the underground well the architecture of which none of us knows


it wasn't at all your fault the way mice warm up the cage for one another


self-consciousness of planal cell polarity


making no impressions on my slutty green shirt


desperate to get out of my own skin the light shin the light on the shin the light glinting off the shin dimming the lights and it not working


I like the color lime green like kiwi pie


hips the pale skin of a woman and not one who is snotting out


small words make a really long sentence


well I do have a mustache but that doesn't make me any less famous


we can make bunnies that glow in the dark


33 cents a pound for bananas and 69 cents a pound for the green apples I don't wish were red


I can't tell if that brown curly haired person in the third row is a man or a woman but eithe rway unattractive


a wary arrow


because I did not sleep with a cute your boy after the AA meeting last night so I could get out of my skin face your stuff, don't stuff your face


if you get the mark drunk and sleep with him maybe everyone is playing an angle


like Lily that pickpocket from the movie


I almost last all the images of 70s porn stars that is something I could never apologize for


about C. B.'s sister's death falling from the parking garage in Harrisburg and all the kids dying from the beer enemas they took being alcohol virgins


am I older than I seem or older than I am because of all the disease I have survived and the fact that we could all die today


are you a fly lab or a marsupial lab or an animation sequence


she's a writer director in Australia with hard-boiled egg breath


the molecules up in my nose will become part of my bloodstream


a bad smell becomes even worse when you realize molecules of it are going into your body


hiding all the young girls in alcohol


so young and short and frothy


time created here by the opening and closing of every auditorium door


I do not want to do it I want a whole pumpkin pie in my mouth my mom's recipe but maybe a whole thing of cool whip too


brother was all like I get to be cloudy day and I get to be sunny day and I felt not strong enough to win


why do we always think our siblings are going to have interesting things in their drawers


the red the orange the blue on the computer screen makes my mouth tired


my mouth feels full of sour rotted rotted planks of old milk but not in a good way like cheese


wear maroon or boots or anything embroidered


these people are all leaving I don't know why time to clap earlier my poo smelled like blueberries


now it smells like sausage in the bathroom with the snot dried along the wall


it now sucks like sense trying to struggle from the thing of verbs


you call windmills


four am bearded dragon


this pasting going to come to any good effect?


just met Jeff Axelrod and couldn't stop staring at his arms


I want to eat my dinner and never worry about e-mail again I want to rent a car conscious of only wanting to escape


and that hot guy with that ugly girl beside him owning his beautiful face and not appreciating it the bitter taste of lust in my throat like rancid soy nuts in soy sauce or rice wine vinegar I hate the vengeance but I hate its object more for now


why do I give language all the desire I should have to give to myself


the beautiful naps of those deprived of sleep


for the first time in my life I'll be the minority and not that clean cut guy with parents who love him


tired to convince you and myself of that


right the song the finger the pearl the description the stoned girl the guy fucking her and how he even gets it up when they'll all on heroin I don't know


feeling of pennies and nickels and chapter books


things that should never be anthologized