Tuesday, November 24, 2015


Derive, Derive, Derive (Love).
 by can u punctuate a title?

by accident we happened
on a grove of unripe mangoes.
Nobody makes it that way].

we saw what no one looks like,
the heft of wind held by a sea
foam green bamboo striped
shadows into a landscape:

a prehistoric rockchair, a toke at Zion
where the water went from hardly at
all among the stones to knee-high,
a walk when your granny was near
Wade Chapel.      by chance we knelt
to see the pink-jewelled neck of his iguana,
you holding him near for me, some beer
levened in yr breath like a purple
yeast i wld knead].

we did not talk about what happened
but kept on like a motorcar steadily
leans towards, feeling the heat in the
distance, not wearily, and not in the
way, we were led to Believe Mountain,
where i learned you cant try.

its u being in the perfect image of u-->
<--its not on purpose but with one.
its me digging my reflection telling
me what it is you jive with us.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

water towers

water towers

corns overhead, now the mimosas
an upright display, like with perk, hot-pink
in humid midsummer, she says they draw ants.

i draw a sketch of the two of us swimming
nekked. i connive pain again, this time
using laughter.

its hay time. we pull over for the trucks wide-
loaded with bales, singing a song we hate
so much our voices actually harmonize.

'she is sand in yr shoe,' became a refrain
everyone privately broke down to beautiful
physics; poof! goes the Tower, and it all is.



been a long time since i cried to Bette Davis
Eyes. i train on the Kitchen Buddha i placed
in the office anyways, like furniture.

and you'll walk in tan glory,
with those sunfucked eyes but i wont take in
the stream of it, cool water on my eyelashes,
the first round of spring peepers versus
azaelea, and a leech finds his traction
in a puddle, you take a picture i wont
see developed later.

its all in the decor my dear, ill be on the
shelf next to all the letters, in the lost wallet
full of postage, featured in some unfathomable

getting some air

getting some air

out toward Eminence a yellow cloud
spreads its mist like mirth handed out
by the paw-full at annual parades. the
sky blue water tower clashes with the sky,
and a bat—no! hummingbird! heads right
for the porch, but quickly to the sugar
maples next door, their gaping holes,
its own jewel greenness, a shock and a gift.

sun oughta be going down by now,  i express
my tranquilo bodice and breathe,
fireflies look lime in the light from
across the porch, i put up my feet
and lay down my fists.