Boys With Long Torsos


and butts
not droopy
but as though
each cheek
were resting
in a cup


Wait For the Timpani to Resolve Themselves


and pick me up out of the moonstone rainstorm theory
the idea having delayed itself against the rain I see
that walking where we go it’s simply stunning
the tree where it has split your flower hasn’t took yet
it took and then finally it took all right
boy oh boy do I believe you


We Can Be Sure


we sunk having found out what embarrasses us we are in bed
and laughing like a skunk out the window in the lilacs canceling
one another like the stock market years later told you you had stock
you’d forgotten your grandmother was dead and practical if you would let her
name your trust in your body a turret a neck of crows define it
thus we size it


Like Mint Kitchenettes


was snow packed tight in your iris your brown eyes that changing their clovers shone man at me the yellow corset of lather abrupt in season a few darning
eggs I only kept in hopes you’d be back so few hours later and now
high moon shaking
I slack
my tenderness I hid until you


My Body Sympathetic


pieces that pass first test
first test being believe it or not sitting down right dead drunk
small cold and absolutely broke
without crying when all the characters are leathering
advertising themselves as red cold ribs
flexible and sad


They Chase Me From Inside