Sea Love Junket

Sea twice as un- inhabitable / green and steep w/ tea. Tags it and clipped tones / the moon’s deli- cate reflect activity. Fish horizon stipples / apply them selves, about face and smear See, he says, bones to pick. At 2 oclock, a clip- per gist forms white / a little “l” out.  He says …

Guy with a Conductor Hat

It girl like a mouse to me, hulking, gutsome verdict: sum swelling scales hear me kiss big the bellies of my families below triumphant ‘heretofore’ -looking. \\ wear me tight pants where going can tell the future sex of her mousewhite lob iamb even when off (the lights are when not, I don’t) mine balcony …

7 day garden

the light is plaid windowthing a flare sitting on my head a little duende / weeds almost touching riverend to end / ‘our boat’ is no, we paid for the time entirely bob- bing wooden nose, aft, never do we dance, growing upended rosemary / thyme in corn cans, bean cans, green wire, orange and dull pots, as …

HowRU&YRU

How are you my love & why my love are you ripped in the apartment wall my love my sat./sun. as in whiteface whirs hey my whole hey chickening at the blue pool bottom kissing really in love with legs this leggy velor love in eukaryote Samsonite in haute algae skirts in leather necklaces my …

Love Prayer

I love the deer and the desert. I love the first part of Medea, the sea. I love calling a poem “the porpoise”. I love eating good salad, both idea and activity, and thinking about it as in I’m describing to someone this salad. I love the perfect shape, parallelogram, because it is the only …

Love Poem

We covered the field, one night happening stormy and suprisingly lit, with what you asked and I told you how something shimmers in terms of our walking into it, or walking itself, which is to luminous greenhouses. That sync, whether I weilded a dog and you a frondy sweeper or visa-versa, we were keeping in …

Break Day

Got blood sluiced to my trousers and kiss him ends of genetic sequences like I was born this way. My body twisted together and my hair oh that’s the top of it. Made me promise not to fly out the faggoty window. One bum asking if I’m a priest the way I work my coat …

Dialong

She is like plaque, that is what you say to her. Her face obscured; hair over her eyes and cheeks, her hands.  Yellow hair over the white cuffs she is wearing even to the bed. Her life is a mess and though plaque badly describes it, she understands what you mean. So go on. There …

a query where our arms met slightly at the wrist

wait

Go long you say while we lay in bed. Begging, in some sense. Things like our bed have hair— rolled into your fingers into a ball. We are classic. In some sense, naked. A bowl of fruit on the floor, torn tickets I jot somethings on, We listen to Dylan. Claudia’s pink jaw gleams, she …

Pantoun #1

It’s Monday. Let’s go to Paris. My tongue Hands and Hair are Dying for Paris. Spread my Hands and Hair On the Bed Spread Me nearly Flat– Like a Map of the Bed (You tourist). Monsieur Flat– terer. Hand me the fleur. & Do Take that tour of yours to the Ground. My dumb tongue. …