\\






///////
breath is stopped
and teeth, like glaciers_ carving scar-like channels  in the earth
  
know


i “I’m”
and i am saying too much

in answering, i hold us up from getting at the meat of it.

seat of it. sitting there,stinging me.
too afraid to get so    clear

The white fur stands on edge. tufted with peanut butter
And caught round the ring .

Creaking  like shifting weight over linoleum feet.
Back and forth like hips ,
Indecisive
In their balance.


Matted into layers like stones and soil
being excavated to find
fossil evidence  of lives lost
To
Changes

Keys in the loops
Pushed down into glass jars
Amidst pennies and ash
Chair legs creak and crack over breakfast
And
Conversations of
Time


Jacket on the hook ,
Pockets turned out in careless artform .
proof of
Man’s final triumph over
god
And the lasting power of
Mistakes
It’s a shame you don’t see the legs still kicking in place
Treading water
Trendy in the fake struggles
Getting claws caught in sweater sleeves and
Untwisting each yarn

Like poisoning the minutes against each other.
Like posing in a photograph we won’t share.
Like sharing blood.

Charging wires tremble in icy dry venue
As
The windows fog over like cooking in the kitchen in January.
It is enough to remember harder.
Or want to

Its enough to sell sell sell
I break promises over
Breakfast.
I
Th
I
Nk
I am happier
than
Many other m n
I think I waas
Better off than .that

I woke up to the radio on but nothing playing
I ,
Man’s final artform
I













Or the

You

I was her boredom
As the monster cut up the city

We ordered food. and sat to wait out our imminent destruction

Disassembling  art installations that had grown out of my hair


Going to and from.


There will be no Magical  girl transformation sequence .
There will be no battle. And triumph

I was the summer.
Burning other people. while we stayed inside
For most of it

Winter is a string
Plucked and vibrating sharply against the skin pan
Of my head
Like branches I bend,
Young enough still.  to yield pliably
Under the burden
Of snow.
The ashen sun   rises like dust .   about the windowsill
We trace the paths they draw    in particles and movement,

My face tightens around my bones
Drinking collagen  from the exposure
And learning

Cozy between layers
In the history of the world

Steaming as breath around the mouths  of
Rivers,
Not yet sleeping
Not yet filling the spaces with
Me

.


there are only two types of socks in this world.
those that get shrunk, and
those that get stretched out.

life, like laundry
is about adopting the best practices to hold out for as long as
possibl e.
you gotta fight the nature of things
to
remain


.

like lightning in the pines   ,
the scales shaved off of each seed-head
by the threat of my
booming  _  voice

like headlights in the road
near misses and
dogs running free

like finger hairs
*****

he opens the chewable tylenol capsules like carefully peeling away the skin of a ripe fruit.
legs crossed at the kitchen table,
[buying time ]
_she stands at the sink. not doing dishes
but rearranging them.

the radiator is hot and hisses
the oil is delivered today

the mail is sorted roughly

ea dark hair        rests
like mud thrown against the  pale skin   .ribs are counted down the
back as
i trace the spine to its source
shoulders, cloven          into the
bilateral symmetry
               of that line [like any high eukaryote]

sides like tar, stained with wet curls
wrapped around and stikking tight like
the                          tentacles
of something
deeper                   reaching .

.


The heavy weight of the dog at my feet
She is hot through the blanket
The night is crisp and dry
Outside
I shift my legs
Bending them at the knees as I turn sideways
She curls
And fills the space.
Rolling into a tight ball and pushing against  the me that has become
Burrow for her body

It is the first cold night.

And I have seen growth in time passing

Summer t-t-time and livin’ ...
Small change
////////////////////////

Congealed words stick to the roof of  (my) mouth like peanut butter at the beach.
  My jar lid rolls away across the kitchen floor and towards you.

My toweled legs stretch out like vines climbing saplings,and feeling out for a new way to go once they reach the top.

Searching


Sun drying clothes on the line and leaving them out all night to gather insects.

Making plans and breaking them.

Dragging

the living room floor on top of sleeping bags

God is an urban legend
More dangerous than a creepy pasta in the news

And youth is less corruptible than nations.
And the stories
The normies
tell each other are comfort and exclusion of fault and responsibility .
Sensation spreading
I play with my ribs
Thumb side pressed below shoulderblades
and skipping in and
Out
Of grooves

I move
Towards you
And in for the
****


If
******* can hurt it
Then do it.

Barcode sticker on the shower wall wet and dripping ink like one handle hairy bandaid from a leg

her voice is war
and i am the feet sweating in heavy combat boots
the cardoor slams outside the window
they leave without us

there are things in this room that can **** nations of artists

i am synthesized under a microscope
like being shot through by many arrows
slowly-
slidedark around the corners of the glass.
i twist and roll .      belly over
ribs
as her eyes, chalky, talk to me.
i take it
toothily
soil-minded, both.
heads with weapons.

gritty gums is love+
dim viewfinder is love+

dust in the screen-shine
and shoes under the table

[my] cheeks are drying out
each time they are swabbed.

[i could be i n the world
i could be in this world]

the watchband is tightening. as the arms
are . swelling
as the sea is rising
rinsing salt [and other semi-conductors]
around in my mouth
caking crystals deeply into pores and
dimples

like thefloodlights         coming     o  n
to **** with the lives of bats
and bugs .     both

sake in the kitchen.
peace and control  .  
   my body decomposing over a slice of bread

learning to see people as objects
pinching together the corners of pages.with nails that need to be
trimmed

scrolling through  screen
girls skinny in their dresses

folding down
with
[waists that are really waisting]

like an oily thumb .tracing
pink lines across a bright white
leg
like a dry tiger.

like youth and destruction in-side an aging murderer's  head

                                               ­                        -like




                          and oh!
                           **here comes a tune fromlong ago

sparks fly off the 3rd rail   .like
winking at the mole-men
          you tighten your belt and      lean a pink ear
on the wall

august comes and goes
in a hop-along head

clock-breath .heaving like the         earth
and dust in sunlight
\

hair in faCe-

lids, part covered over like gauze on a wound

as your zipper eyes are caught in my [ shirt]
3/4s of the way down

a metallic taste
like ******* on a cashier's finger-[tips]

the sandpaper strips at the edge of each stair
as  your head tilts . like
a broken PA speaker on a subway car
pushing static like a jazz drummer

art blakey and the
hiss.

superrich .  call they say,
                      savory as
sputnik sounds through hamradios
in every other basement
in a time [and place]where things are still
in bed

my belief in you is a bar of soap
shrinking .   each time it gets wet

Yeah oh yah, but at least we stay clean

There are things crawling on the ceiling in August
There are bellies heaving in and out

There are faces  pinker than fingernails in August
There are gods and the dying

I am standing in the hallway in August
I am not a god


You liken me to the inside of drawers in August
You shut me and
You line me with  plastic  fabrics

You fill me with silverware and
You disarrange
[.     With courage. ]

The white fan stands on the kitchen floor pointed out the window.
Cleaning chemicals hang like
Jungle.
I have no garden.
Mail is delivered to the wrong address.
I pick at the same zit under the skin until a scab forms above my left
eyebrow

I could be growing tomatoes right now, but I’m not.
The yard faces the wrong way.

I’ve had no time to buy planters.
Work has been rough.

The dog is on edge today.
She is still a puppy.
We speculate that she may go into her first heat (soon.)

i am waking up later
and the trash trucks are coming earlier
on trashday

and
it adds insult to injury to watch them roll away slowly
to the house nextdoor

7:20am on a tuesday,
knowing that it'sstarting again

i met the aging father of an ex-friend in a park.
he had a large bicycle with him

they were always riding bicycles, the whole family.
healthy living. watching less tv. reading more books. doing sports.
he was sitting on a bench
i had recognized him- and in spirit of better days and holding no
illwill,i approached .
we got to talking
and it got to why his son and i had drifted apart all those years ago
i don't think he ever knew the whole story.
i replied with nothing too specific
but later thought about it more .
i decided that
he got tired of the loser's table and i was still content for a bit longer
and yet, to this day, i have never thrown someone’s fish out the bus

window .

they are folded up like my gut,
the papers on the shelf
he reaches to pull them down, and i can feel them fluttering.

[my legs are together]
[my head is soft]
[i am a stain on the chair]

pure living
is cereal for lunch.
one bowl
one spoon
in the sink,
and thats it

home sick from work [with a bug]
the curtains look out further than the yard next door
fog hangs loose about its peak like breath
the dishes in the sink fume up to meet it

the house is dying.
things are dying in my gut.
                       yet fuji stands.

i would be okay if you stained my teeth
with anything
you
had
to offer

horse-whole in the water-
milky for you-
white as cuticles.

like the /**** me/ hum of the A/V cart
hooked up and left running
nothing.
stuffy
in the boxed we built (there)

decorating the tree
with
chemo fingernails(green) like
                                        fair.ies

circling around- laying[like the]
laurels on our heads. trashcan lids:
padding our ears like boxing gloves
love to tap the side of your.trialware
breathing.  my .     looks,brittle as hard
candiesshattering in our unleveled
jaw.lines hoops of you puff over myhome// chimney
tongue/ / . past unshoveled driveways
grassgrown and mowed down

months ago.

its going to be

(cleanlike lungs filling)
good as garden decorations
free as pulling quills from dogs' noses

      [untucking pictures from a shoebox in the closet when you're gone]

my legs crumple against your
belly.ending all
the hair on mine_pin each other
to the hairlessness
and dark
of
your sil t
.
as i break stoney voices against
yourlips like archival spaceshuttle  
recordings
each part _in the
answering hiss

my path,
dividing
outside your body


fingers are finding nothing left to
finger .
it's been
treason   in these years

the plexiglass is yellowing up
betraying it's artifice

the cold has left my feet alone.but
my head is layered with fossils of swimming
lessons and
purple shorts


you.glance at your scarred belly-
marring you with wisdom
.i hold my breath
you flash your ****.
we careen off of eachother's cliffs,
holding harmless in
the
moondampened.

.bare ankles whurring deep inside the forest of night. in dark vale of
cambridge apartment.the window is stuck open; the handle is torn off. they are blowing smoke outside. the floor is wet.and churning below shadowy dionysian heads. muses: finger-laden in the gloaming caverns- are dying. there is a shout. there is a stringing out of things. there is a relative stillness.
happy in the cult of youth. ankles deep in the wastey-water

if you die - gilt bronze colossus :
                chinese take-out
                  chicken fingers
                  box open
right in the middle of town.


everyone will know, what
you knew

it's the kind of self-loathing that just radiates
it's like what i imagine leaving a spoon in the microwave would be like.
it's like wearing a sweater in spring- when the day turns out a lot nicer than originally forecast
and i am just left sweating and fuzzy

"i know that smell"
he said
"those tweety-bird treats from the ice-cream truck-
with those weird gumball eyes
i haven't thought about those since my little-league days
i always ******.

i was young for my grade and very thin and gangly-
i ****** except for that one year, when everyoneelse moved on and

me and that one other kid who was also young for our grade
stayed in the league.
we killed it that year
i'm not proud. but it was our chance to shine

it's amazing how these things can come back to you."

i said yeah

a bit later on my way to the train station, there was a homeless
woman
with oxygen tubes and a wheelchair
just slumped back in that chair. supine. directly in front of the door to the stairs
eyes closed
baking in the (late day) sun

i didn't check to see if she was alive.
i though about it though

he was hit by a tour bus
dragged for a few dozen yards i think
then it rounded the corner and left
him there

thedriver didn't notice.
how could she, so high up there
hand on the PA
eyes on her passengers in the rearview :


•30 or so chinese students in some sort of program
•one fat and badly sunburnt family, the mother with a sloppy drawl
•two older russian men - beards both of them
• a reasonably well-adjusted looking couple with matching hats


meanwhile he there in the road, no longer wore a hat

the other pedestrians were not happy.
less grieved- but more just angry in that generic urban way
cursing and imagining that it could have been them
(no body uses the walk signal anymore)

these baby teeth in little (plastic) baggies
[somewhere in my parents' bedroom]

thedog they never met    ,    teething gently on my fingers and silver ring.
these mornings of getting up.
and days of doing all the daily things,

steak+egg breakfast
front porch clutter
sitting on the rug, looking through rubbermaid bins


          •old t-shirt
          •woolen socks
          •die-cast airplanes


dust in the air and [skin on my palms]
yellow film of last year's pollen over laundry baskets that are no longer mine

8 mouses high
i jump

you let it go to my head. like
hunger.
beside alligator jaws
[and just
          as
   simple]

beneath the weight of imaginary *******

mouth
dumb

filter sponge

you,
exposed gums.
tooth picker.
saline rinse.

it's the aftermath of a change and the street is
quiet.
you look at your old favorite shoes and in the
last minute_pull them out of the trash and into
the trunk of the car.

the basement is full of jackets you don't
  remember.and some you do.

morning is a cotton sheet over
itself.

diffused, you notice storefronts
that  
you never felt like going in

[]
king of the fingers.
decomposing  in the [party scene ]upstairs bedroom
mountains and boulders wear down to things like me when held under
that gaze


you are the ******
and i am the dead that you dress like.
you could reach others .and
i

glowbird knows ∆ he can make it, but
the sun drips warnings in front of
our reticle eyes   ø
           in the dusking smile
           you throw
it                                                   feels

the whites of her eyes are old masking tape.
the rest of the world is likewise

my
teeth     are grinding like wet bark on the
  car door.
leaving behind
paint          to mark off where we've
been.
and to show, in a more general sense, that we existed
     at      all

i see her dying   along with the others

yet
her lips are shining like rug-burn

and
there is something left to be extracted


we imagine my head against her *******
the new milk ruining her blouse for the evening

marbled agaisnt the grey sky

+




its
convenient. the way you stare back
+

i hold harnesses tied from knots of your clothing   . my
fingers are hemp
strands and
you              are weaving more

chordate . wet

dancing, evermingled with
[his enzymes]
you
swept ,,


you let me  past the corners of your hair.

_
the
      dogs roam around in the yard
(still)looking for you

they find nothing but eachother
                               and thats how.




the house plants are drying
                       or stay too wet


there's never any middle ground (with them).


you cease to be
today


like drying vowels out in my mouth before speaking.

++
like waking up with the window left open.

each wink you left behind
     tilts back to let light and air into the

throat.

there's sentient life in the bottom of your glass
you **** civilizations with [the swipe of] a sponge and look up as if nothing at all.

placing the demise of new taxonomic kingdoms onto the counter, you turn to me and repeat the question:

you pose your head like offering a nat-geo ****
aroundthe table
as something valuable
to be
venerated
the sliding screen lights up
offering a piece
of your brown skin

the leaflets are caught in folds that wont  
find any other place to open.

you sunburn like antarctic summer.  eyesglazed inside

+plastic
+basins  

catch it like big pores casting texture from raking angles
you glacier
spark white against cobalt glass

silver ring
oil skin
metal pen
[dishes in the sink/everything]

he, white slice of fingernail
he, like  splinters

the way the light reaches

the free jazz of other peoples' suns colliding out there-
freezing against
                         my low cheeked
                         face

standing cold and dumb in
      december's hairline    _
(the )moon, as thin as skin   .
and i, thinner

what are you about that I'm that I'm that the only jacket at the way you are continuing. want me to advocate in the bathroom window while I'm about to for a for a I'm not sure not sure going to be able.  

buy.
  have not talked values and the typos became more than my blastoise

odds are you getting these images they out so out so ready for bedbug burning scrubby shyness scruff of the same afterwardly word.  dismissingderby. they've regressed into serpentine shying. away . thumb shock.  don't shut up.  don't think.  don't front this.
I'm just now leaving the nursing home soon.

we skitter mouse-long into clanking radiator breaths,
tongue// wrapt around those teeth
                                    like the wet sweater sleeves heavy at your side.
sinking into  auditorium :  my warm blanket full of eyes,
the floorboards chewing on our soles.(as) i scuff your mute fingers
against my cathedral face  
"home" is quaking like stones w/o oceans,
cereal boxes with no prize inside,
like a sudden impulse to buzz your head
.
we cough up a wish, like a cat's superstition:
proto - prayer :
a mammal recognizing its own thoughts as a distinct
operation,
i correct the errors in your dividing cells like [tearing japanese paper.]
ourreligion is the opposite of problem solving.we disprove
ourselves/in order to   grow.
[and stagnate on faith alone]

i'd rather worship myself for knowing i could

we give thanks : for the grip that tears you away from my
handhold

pulling hair out of parted lips like charming serpents from
        wet reeds
  open. <laying>
hernecktwistsdown

and stains me       
         .
our hands
are

dropped bread_dog-natured
and slow.breath
i am dull hammerhead  to your
nail-edge.
i am smoothed out by time and
b l o w s.
the sea knows my
stone(s).like i know your wrist
though i fray at the end of
your
twine-lined teeth:

knees and knuckles
pink w/ youth and .   hurt
and isnt it good to know we can
still scrape something [good]

like bangs across our eyes. like pockets
being played with instead of
looking forward- face front
my eyes, lunge around- across
rays of dust._dead sharp floaters
in a sea of stuffy air

let me learn you like legs
(i notice) under my                         sweatshirt.
                                    pine green