And then you sack of skin and bones

i have heard the root poop- and

standing in a sea it’s hard to see what

you mean

i mean i am not virtuous

i mean i bump, too, in the night i mean

uhhh uhh uhhh

but i know what you mean about distance

about 20,000 people signing up to die on mars to die

on the way to mars  we thought

there would be more

even if all those people go 20,000 is still a pretty small town

and everyone knows how humans feel about living

in a small town

maybe that’s what you mean with your howling

cause

i (too) howl at the moon?

but maybe it bounces back and into your mouth

i think i’ve seen it there

it doesn’t make me do anything

except want to kiss

uh. oh.

i overheard someone say they were a salt

and another a muck

                                                           you are bones inside of skin you

                                                           and me, we are

                                                           we only have to worry

                                                           about the day we won’t be

                                                           but i’m not worried yet

i’m glad you saw a bee

i thought all the human bees were dead

An informal training in case of organs

I went outside the world
was all fucked up.

No
sea.                    

There's always a way
to get
clean.                  

Stop teaching
virginity virtue.

Stop mudding
a face with your call.

It isn't
pretty.  I don't howl
to control.

We touch
like astronauts
in the night.            It's forceful.
Sores my throat.
Now now

how long
has that bee
been staking there.  Flew
angrily

after the slammed door.

A buzz in your body
her organs particular.

You're not falling down stairs
but over the ledge.  In a garden.

Stick your trowel in the ground
and then lift
till you hear the root pop.

clockbody

what do you say no

no what do you say now?

I'm found, a body bottomed at the stairs

bloodless so tempting

no cleanup, no afterthought

no troublesome

I have to go somewhere, to be anonymous for awhile

I would never say this because

get real, you're always be

Make yourself a love a queen a girl a ghost to wish for

little grave collector  

headstones as tempt rocks to get your etch on

dig scrape eat repeat

I keep us out-of-doors

because we only talk of love & death out-of-doors

& inside is locked up, lockme by-my-hair-up

mine-me, brick-me diamond-me

we're an orebody, let's vein

And lets to our grief tie

a strong velvet around a gel body

 a rebound of snap,

 snapping back

 the sound of snapping out of it

the hush of your fingers

the click of a camera, of a clock

the permanence of my image on a sidewalk

the permanence of loss

which abundants like ferns in maine forests

crawling with ticks

that never even get inside you

just crawl leggy crawl

stay outside, such indoor-attempters, little lossforest arachnids.

Like bones griefs tickle, are funny when jammed

the tingle of the stone in the still water

like the stone is mineral is a trifle is crystal is a sink is sunk,

like in every dream of opaque shoreless bodies

where I'm dropping the whiny talismans & tropes,

and in slomotion watch them 

go down into the dark bog oak green forever

crime-scene tide

need a bath
the unfurling bloom ossifies
taut to the tune of a mournful theramin--
the sail-crack hits and you choke out thick blue chalk puffs.
these laws are abstracted out of muddy brushwork--
should probably crawl from the basin of leisure
(having been thoroughly lathed)
fly out to the end of the tether
til the leather snaps
my banded ass
(the shatter simply forms a finer filagree)
the shadow somehow leaks out from bisection line
starting thru the middle tooth gap--here it comes a-rumbling--

caught before a red name written

caught before a red name written (blossoms to their own alarms). tell me, don't all sea-clouds toss their shoulders back--a good sixty feet-- into sand that shapes a castle, flushes a coffin's edgework. so how to say shade is on something, never pointing at yourself? (where this is, having first been gauged). or as she explains it over billiards: a true cue won't match your wingspan. just tack your sails to that shaky point: your name in black is only saying you can see where the shade is rolling in

ooh noo

i am a salt.
kick up for your fun day
at the flats.

gravy filled my grave
before me.

clone my eyes
if we don't have children.

muck from one tangerine
onehundredyears rotten
will cover
everything.

make names.
i said middle smokes
to make a point.

you are this
succeeding hand
with overactive
fuck you finger.

smuttering this house
its thick drawers
open for us
a yard of scrub.

what if i am justice?
HERE I AM.
stop letting commandments have say.

i won't lie to a bird.
know the difference
between price and profit.

we pull off the
day by day ceremony.

each repeats the end.

the year is full
of the same.

i can't help but tongue it
and that will make me sick.

i used to sleep w/ ears
plunged in your noises.
i mean i did it once.

make me stronger or
shut your speaking asking off.

yes yes yes. no. yes yes yes.

beneath me you are this thick muck
what i said is "gravy"
you just kick me awake
in the middle of the night i smoke
some old stale tobacco from a drawer
i speak about what this house needs
washing from the head down
i mutter enough about my hands
never feel clean after scrubbing
i wash them again wishing
you beneath my thumbnail
how i am not some ring finger or
what if i am just a fuck you finger

i should stop letting her through
these doors before i walk in first
i am supposed to
command some presence
so i say, here i am
no i say, HERE i am
no HERE I AM i say
i don't like repeating you so
many times i tell myself the same thing
never changes or
maybe they do and i won't notice
until i die i won't have children to sit
at my grave- tell me stories
sing me a bird song that everything is
same way i left it- lie to me because i won't
know the difference between a bird

song or sleep sound the same
when i am dreaming i think
about some little boy too weak
he pulls only one tangerine
of the tree each day by the end
the year is full of rotten berry juice
i can't help but drink it
it will make me stronger or
make me sick of donuts
you repeat yourself about
some sugar on the corners
my mouth says where?
your tongue points it out shutting me down
when did you stop asking questions
when did you start speaking in bubbles
maybe it was last Spring
i hardly knew you then Spring came
i hardly know you
except
by the flowers you keep
which i've never seen so i make names
each petal & each stem
your kitchen is so crowded w/
all the plant families every morning
always packing up to move into the sunshine
state of mind i'm in

jelly filled donut dreams
i used to think all this dough worthless
used to pity all the empty insides
so we filled them
w/ gravity
w/ sleep
w/ ears
w/ feelings
eating as much shit as we could
becoming extra calories
of imperfections of boring
what i said is
i just cannot repeat myself
again i just said i cannot repeat
myself is so afraid of pushing tin
succeeding alone & having no one
to thank

at some over priced award ceremony
the clock just keeps moving in place
even when i turn my back to it
even after onehundredyears
when i close my eyes at it
& repeat myself
i like to ask what time is it
in some country i've never loved
you always know &
never get mad at repeating yourself
oceans don't have time zones
i am not salty enough
to be an ocean i can sting